Love Game
by RgalRobertson
Summary: Swan Queen AU. No Magic. Regina has just gone through a rough brake up. She lands a promotion that takes her to Chicago where she meets a Beautiful stranger who shows her what it means to live. I Wrote this story for my friend Jen as her secret Santa. Merry Christmas Jen and the SHBC
1. Prologue

**Hey Everyone! This Fic is for everybody in SHBC.(and part of Jens gift) You are all so amazing and to those who helped me come up with ideas XO Mwah!**

Just one week I rented out my house, sold my car, and left my philandering boyfriend. In just one week my own life died, and it didn't go quietly. It imploded. But to be fair, I'd been the one to fuck it up in the first place. Although, I promised my overprotective parents that I'd be careful, it wasn't until I was actually at the airport that I called to let my best friend know I was moving her way.

It all seemed to sink in as I was standing in the crowded terminal.

"Kathryn? It's me," I said, shaking as I looked around the terminal. "I'm coming to Chicago. I hope the job is still mine." She screamed, there was a loud _thunk_ as the phone dropped and Kathryn reassured someone in the background that she was fine.

"Regina's coming," I heard her explain, and my heart squeezed just thinking about being there with them at the beginning of this new adventure. "She changed her mind, David!" I heard a muffled sound of celebration, a clap, and he said something else that I couldn't quite make out.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He asked if Robin was coming with you."

"No." I paused to fight back the sick feeling creeping up my throat. I've been with Robin for six years and no matter how glad I was to be done with him, the dramatic turn in my life still felt all too real. "I left him."

There was a sharp intake from the other side of the phone. "You okay?"

"Better than okay." And I truly was.

I don't think I realized exactly how okay I was until that moment.

"I think it's the best decision you've ever made," she told me before a pause, I could hear the relief in her voice, listening as David spoke in the background.

"David said you're going to shoot across the country like a comet." I bit my lip, holding back a grin, hoping she really wouldn't mind.

"Not too far off, actually. I'm at the airport." Kathryn screeched some unintelligent sounds and then promised to pick me up at O'Hare International Airport.

I smiled, hung up, and handed the counter attendant my ticket. I was thinking a comet was too directed, too driven. I was really more like an old star out of fuel, my own gravity pulling me inwards, crushing me. I ran out of the energy needed for me to perfect life, a way too predictable job, my loveless relationship exhausted and I'm only 27. Like a star my life in New York collapsed under the force of its own weight, so I was leaving. I was a massive star leaving behind black holes. But I was barely leaving behind a shadow. All of my light was coming with me. I was ready to start over as a comet; refuel, reignite, and burn across the sky.

 **Thanks for reading! I have just now decided that I will update at least one to two chapters a day because I now have the time and I would like this to be finished by Christmas** **I hope you all enjoy it! Intriguing**


	2. Chapter 1

**There are a few things I didn't know that were going to happen until I started writing, and one of those things is Emma is British… I don't know why but something about Jmo in a suit with a British ascent just sounds like fun. Her back story will be the same, She just happens to be from Leeds. I hope you Enjoy.**

"You're wearing the blue dress or I'm stabbing you," Kathryn called from the kitchen zone, as I'd begun and calling it.

It certainly was big enough to be labeled as a full-fledged kitchen. I had gone from an adorable East Village Apartments roughly the size of a living room, to a echoing, rambling Victorian in the Chicago suburbs. Catherine had already asked me at least ten times why I had chosen such a big place. The truth was, I chose it because it was different from anything I've ever known before. In the bedroom, I turned on the hem of the miniature blue skin tight dress and staring at the extreme amount of blinding me feel like I was offering up tonight. I hated that my first instinct was to wonder if Robin would think it was too revealing, while my second instinct was to realize I loved it. I'd have to delete all of those old Robin programs, immediately.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't wear this."

"Can't think of one." Kathryn walked into the bedroom wearing a silver sequined number. She looked, as usual, unbelievable. "We're drinking and dancing, so showing some skin a requisite."

"I don't know how much skin I want to show," I said. "I'm dedicated to my freshly minted single girl card."

"Well, some of the women there will be showing their ass, so you won't stand out if that's what you're worried about. Besides," she said, pointing to the street, "it's too late to change. The limo is here."

"You should be the one showing their ass. You're the one who been naked sunbathing and a drunk and a French villa for the past three weeks," I said.

Kathryn gave a knowing smile and tugs my arm. "Let's go gorgeous. I've spent the past few weeks with David. I'm ready for a night out with the girls."

We piled into the waiting car in Ruby pop the champagne. With one tangling, bubbling gulp, the entire world around me seemed to evaporate until they were just three young friends in a limo barreling down the street to celebrate a new life. And this night we were just celebrating my arrival: Kathryn was getting hitched, ruby was visiting, in the newly single Regina had some living to do. The club was dark, deafening, and still with writhing bodies on the dance floor, in the halls, against the bar. Ruby in Catherine seemed entirely in their element. I felt like I had spent most of my childhood and adult life so far at quiet, formal events; it was perfect. I shoved my way up to the bar cheeks washed, hair damp, and legs feeling like they hadn't been properly used like this in years.

"Excuse me!" I shouted, trying to get the bartender's attention.

So I had no idea what any of it actually meant, I already ordered buttery nipples, cement mixtures and purple hooters. At this point, with The Club at maximum density in the music so loud it shook my bones, he probably wouldn't even look up at me. Admittedly, he was slammed and making such a small number of tedious shots was annoying. But I had intoxicated newly confident friend burning a hole in the dance floor, and said girlfriend wanted more shots.

"Hey!" I called, slapping the bar.

"Sure is doing his best to ignore you, isn't he?" I blinked up and up at the woman press close to me at the crowded bar. She was gorgeous, and nodded toward the bartender to indicate her meaning. "You never yell at a bartender, Estrella. Especially, not with what you're going to order. He hates making girly drinks."

Of course it would be just my luck to meet a gorgeous woman just days after my break up and pledging to be single for awhile. The universe was a hilarious bitch.

"How did you know what I was going to order?" My grin grew wider hopefully matching hers, but most likely looking a lot tipsier. I was grateful for the drinks I'd already had, because sober Regina would give her monosyllable and an awkward nod and be done with it. "Maybe I was going to get a pint of Guinness. You never know."

"Unlikely. I've seen you ordering tiny purple drinks all night."

She had been watching me all night? I couldn't decide if that was fantastic, or a little creepy. I shifted on my feet and she allowed my movements. She had angled features with sharp jaw and carved hollow just beneath her cheekbones, eyes sharp, emerald green, dark eyebrows, in serious dimples when the grin spread down to her lips. _Hello, Chicago_. The bartender returned, then looked at the woman beside me expectedly. My gorgeous stranger barely raised her voice, "Three fingers of Macallan's, Pete, and whatever this lady is having. She's been waiting as a spell, yeah?" She turned to me, wearing a smile that made something dormant warm deep in my belly.

"How many fingers would you like?" Her words exploded in my brain in my veins filled with adrenaline.

"Excuse me. What did you just say?"

Innocence. She tried it on, smoothing it over her features. Somehow she made it work, but I could see from the way her eyes narrowed that there wasn't an innocent cell in her body.

"Did you really just offer me three fingers?" I asked.

She laughed, spreading out the biggest hand on a woman I've ever seen on a bar just between us. Her fingers were long and slender, yet the kind that could curl around a softball and dwarf it.

"Estrella, you'd best start with two." I looked more closely at her.

Friendly eyes, standing not too close but close enough that I knew she had to come to this part of the bar specifically to talk to me.

"You give good innuendo." The bartender rapped at the bar with his knuckles, and asked for my order.

I cleared my throat, stealing myself. "Three Orgasms." I ignored his irritated hot and turned back to my stranger.

"You don't sound like you're from Chicago," she said, grin fading slightly but never leaving her constantly smiling eyes.

"Neither do you."

"Touché. Born in Leeds, worked in London, I moved here six years ago."

"Five days," I admitted, pointing to my chest. "

"From New York. The company I used to work for opened an office here and brought me back on to head up finance."

 _Okay, Regina. Way too much information_. Way to an enable stalkers. It had been so long since I've even looked at another woman with such interest or man for that matter. Clearly Robin had been a master in this kind of situation, but unfortunately I had no idea how to flirt anymore. I glanced back to where I expected to see Ruby and Kathryn dancing, but I didn't find them in the tangle of bodies on the floor. I was so rusty in this ritual I was practically revirginized.

"Finance? I'm a number person myself," she said, and waited until I looked back at her before turning a full blown smile. "Nice to see a woman doing it. Too many grouchy men in trousers having meetings just to hear themselves say the same thing over and over."

"I'm grouchy sometimes. I also wear trousers sometimes, too." I said smiling.

"I bet you also wear pants." I roll my eyes.

"That means something else in British, doesn't it? Are you giving me innuendo again?"

Her laugh spread warm across my skin." Pants are what you Americans so blandly call 'underwear'." When she said this, the "Un" sounded like a noise she'd make during sex, and something inside of me melted. While I gasped at her, my stranger tilted her head, looking me over.

"You're rather sweet. You don't look like you come to these kinds of establishments very often." She was right, but wasn't that kind of obvious? "I am really not sure how to take that."

"Take it as a compliment. You are the freshest thing in this place." She cleared her throat and looked to where the bartender was returning with my shots. "Why are you carrying all the sticky drinks out to the dance floor?"

"My friend just got engaged. We're doing the girl's night out thing."

"So then you're unlikely to leave here with me."

I blinked, and then blinked again; I was officially out of my depth. Way out of my depth.

"I... what? No."

"Pity"

"You're serious? You just met me."

"And already I have a strong urge to devour you." Her words were delivered slowly, almost a whisper, but they ring through my head.

It was obvious she wasn't new to this kind of interaction… the proposition of no strings attached sex, and although I was, when she looked at me like that; I knew I was bound to follow her anywhere. Every shot I had seemed to hit me all at once and I weave a little in front of her. She steadies me with her hand on my elbow, grinning down at me.

"Easy, Estrella ." I snapped back into awareness, feeling my head clear slightly.

"Okay when you smile at me like that, I want to climb you. And God knows it's been forever since I've been properly manhandled."

I looked her up and down, all pretense of polite society apparently gone.

"And something tells me you could more than do the job... I mean, holy hell, look at you." And I did. Again I took in a steadying breath and was met with amused grin.

"But I've never just randomly hooked up with some stranger at a bar, and I'm here with friends, celebrating the awesome marriage they're going to have, and so-" I gathered up my shots- "were going to do these."

She nodded once, slowly, her smile turning a little brighter, as if she just accepted a challenge.

"Okay."

"So I'll see you later."

"One can hope."

"Enjoy your three fingers, stranger."

She laughed. "Enjoy the orgasms."

 **I know I promised smut in this chapter to some of you, but it would have been too much, so the next chapter I swear! Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 2

I found Kathryn and Ruby at the table, collapsed and sweaty, and slid the shots down in front of them maybe put one in front of Kathryn and held her own aloft.

"May all of your orgasms go down so easily." She wrapped her mouth around the rim, held both hands up in the air, and tipped her head back, swallowing the entire shot without blinking.

"Holy fuck," I mumbled, staring at her in awe, as Kathryn broke into laughter beside me. She went to the table and took the shot hands-free as Ruby had, and then it was my turn. Both of my friends turned to look at me.

"I met a hot girl," I said without thinking.

Ruby gaped at me. "Then why are you standing here receiving fake orgasms with us?"

I picked up my shot, ignoring Ruby's protest about my bad form, and downed it. It was sweet, Delicious, and just what I needed to clear my head of the jerk in New York and the gorgeous stranger at the bar. I drag my friends out to the dance floor. Within seconds I felt mindless, and deliciously untethered. Kathryn and Ruby bounced around me, yell -singing the songs, lost themselves in the mass of sweaty bodies all around us. Now that I was away, my routine, over scheduled life in New York I could see I hadn't enjoyed it properly.

Only here in this club, with the DJ melting song the song, did I see how I could have spent my early twenties. Under the lights, dancing in a scrap of a dress, meeting people who wanted to devour me, watching my girlfriends be wild and silly and young. I didn't have to move in with my boyfriend when I was twenty two. I could have lived a life outside of the straight and narrow world of society functions. I could have been this girl dressed to the nines dancing your heart out. Lucky for me it wasn't too late. I met Kathryn's elated smile and returned it.

"I'm so glad you're here!" she yelled over the music. I started to reply with some similar screaming drunken vow of the friendship, but just behind Kathryn, in the shadows off the dance floor, stood my stranger. Our eyes met, and neither of us looked away. She was sipping her three fingers of scotch with a friend, but I could tell by how unsurprised she seemed to be caught staring that she'd been watching every move I made. This action had more effect on me then the alcohol. It heated every inch of my skin, burned a hole directly through my chest and lower down past my ribs and deep into my stomach. She lifted her glass, took a sip, and smiled. I felt my eyes rolling closed. I wanted to dance for her. Never in my life have I felt so sexy, so completely in control of what I wanted. I made it through my Master's degree, found a well paying job. But I never felt like a grown woman the way I did right now, dancing like crazy with a gorgeous stranger standing in the shadows, watching me. This moment was exactly how I wanted to start fresh. What would it mean to be devoured? Did she mean that as explicitly as it sounded? Her head between my thighs arms wrapped around my hips holding the open? Or did she mean over me inside me sucking my mouth and my neck and my breasts? A smile spread across my face, my arms stretched up to the ceiling. I could feel the hem of my dress inching up my thighs and I didn't care. I wondered if she noticed. I hope she did. If I thought she walked away, it would have ruined the moment, so I didn't look over her way again. I was on a custom to bar flirtation protocol maybe her attention lasted all of five seconds, maybe it lasted all night. It didn't matter. I could pretend she was there in the darkness for as long as I was here in the lights, on the floor. I've grown to never expect much of Robin's attention, but with the stranger, I wanted her eyes burning through my skin to wear my heart slammed against my ribs. I lost myself in the music and the memories of her hand on my elbow, her green eyes in the word devour. _Devour_. One song bled into another, and then another, and before I could come up for air Kathryn's arms were around my shoulders and she was laughing into my ear jumping up and down with me.

"You've attracted an audience!" She yelled so loud about the music that I went, pulling back.

She nodded to the side, and only then did I notice we were surrounded by a group of men ringtone dark tight clothes and grinding suggestively at the air near them. Looking back at Kathryn, I saw that her eyes were bright and so familiar, this take no prisoners woman who had worked her way to the top of what was now one of the world's largest media firms and who knew exactly what this night meant to me. Suddenly cool air spread over my skin from the fans overhead and I was actually enjoying myself. But behind Kathryn, the shadows were dark and empty no stranger stood there watching me. My stomach dropped a little and I told Kathryn I needed to use the ladies room. I waded through the circle of men and follow the signs to the second floor, which was basically a balcony overlooking the entire club. I walked down narrow hallway and into the bathroom. The room was nearly empty and the music downstairs felt like it was coming up from underwater. On my way out, I fixed my hair, and touched up my lipstick. I walked out the door and right into a woman. We had been closed at the bar, but not this close. My face to her throat, the smell of her surrounding me. She smelled clean and the slightest hint of scotch on her lips.

"Hi, Estrella."

"Hello, stranger."

"I was watching you dance, you tiny, wild thing."

"I saw you." I could barely catch my breath.

My legs felt probably, like they weren't sure if they should collapse or go back to rhythm rhythmically bouncing across the floor. I chewed my bottom lip, suppressing a smile.

"You're such a creeper. Why didn't you come out and dance with me?"

"Because I think you rather liked being watched instead." I swallowed gaping up at her and unable to look away.

Her eyes were mesmerizing. Not only had I known she was watching me and liked it, but I danced entirely to the fantasy of her devouring me.

"Did you imagine I was getting wet?" I blinked.

I could barely keep up with her bluntness. Had there always been people like this that existed, who said exactly what they… I were thinking without sounding scary, or rude, or pushy? How did she manage it?

"Wow," I gasped. "Were you...? She reached down, took my hand, in Dipped into the waistband of her pants, without thinking, feeling the wetness through her panties.

"This is from watching me dance?"

"Are you always such a performer?"

"Never." She's studying me, the smile still in her eyes but her lips fixed on to something more thoughtful.

"Come home with me."

I laughed. "No."

"Come to my car."

"No. There's no way I'm leaving this club with you."

She bent down and pressed a small, careful kiss onto my shoulder before telling me, "But I want to touch you."

I couldn't pretend that I didn't want it, too. It was dark, with flashing lights and music so loud. What harm couldn't come from one wild night? After all, Robin had so many. I led her pass the restroom, further down the narrow hallway to an abandoned spot overlooking the DJ station. We were trapped at a dead end, by no means hidden. Other than a wall forming the back of the club, the rest of the space around us is open, in only a waist high glass kept us from falling to the dance floor below.

"Okay touch me over here." She raised an eyebrow, ran a long finger across my collarbone, from one shoulder to the other.

"What exactly are you offering?" Her strangely backlit eyes that seem so amused by everything around her.

She looked normal, for someone who followed me through a club and bluntly told me she wanted to touch me. I remember Robin, and how rarely outside of keeping up appearances he ever wanted my touch, my conversation, my anything. Is this how it happened for him? A woman would pull him aside, offer herself, and he would take whatever he could before coming home to me? Meanwhile, my life has become so small I can hardly remember how to fill the long nights alone. Was it greedy to one at all? I career to die for, and a crazy moment here in there?

"You're not a psychopath are you?"

Laughing, she bent to kiss my cheek. "You are making me feel it touch crazy, but no, I'm not."

"I just... "I started and then look down. I rested my hand against her waist. Everything about her was meticulous perfect. She wore a suit that outlined her body perfectly.

"I only just moved here." It seems a fitting explanation for how much my hand was shaking against her.

"And a moment like this doesn't feel very safe, does it?"

I shook my head." Not at all." But then I reached out, wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her to me.

She moved willingly, bending down and smiling just before our lips met. The kiss was both perfect kind of soft, and the perfect kind of hard, with the Scotch warming her lips against mine. She groaned a little when I open my mouth and let her in, and the vibrations set me on fire. I wanted to feel every one of her sounds.

"You taste like sugar. What's your name?" He she asked.

With that, I felt my first real surge of panic." No names."

She pulled back to look at me, eyebrows flying up.

"What do I call you?"

"What you've been calling me."

Estrella?

I nodded.

"And what will you call me when you're about to come?" He gave me another small kiss.

My heart leapt in my chest at the thought. "I don't think it matters what I call you, does it?"

Shrugging, he conceded, "I don't suppose so."

I took her hand, brought it to my hip. "I have been the only person to give myself an orgasm for the past year." Moving her fingers the edge of my dress, I whispered, "Can you change that?"

I could feel her smile against my mouth when she bent to kiss me once more.

"You're serious."

The idea of giving myself to this moment in the corner scared me a little, though not enough to change my mind.

"I'm serious."

"You're trouble."  
"I promise you, I'm not."

She pulled back just enough to examine my eyes. Back and forth her gaze moved until her eyes curved into that amused smile. "The fact that you have no idea how you come off..."

she turned me, pressed my front to the edge of the glass wall so I was looking over the balcony at the mass of bodies below. My stranger's fingertips tease the back edge of my dress, and then she lifted it, slide up and down to the back of my underwear, over my backside and between my legs to where I positively ached for her. Even the vulnerable position didn't embarrass me as I arched back into her hand, already lost.

"You are drenched, sweetheart. What is it you like? the idea that we're doing this here? Or that I watched you think about fucking me while you dance?"

I didn't say anything, too afraid of what the answer might be, but I gasped when she slid a long finger inside me. Thoughts of what I should do you played along the edges as I thought back to boring Regina in New York. I wanted to be reckless and wild and young. I wanted to live for myself for the first time in my life.

"You are a tiny little thing, but when you're slippery like this, I'm quite sure you could easily take those three fingers." She laughed into a kiss she pressed to the back of my neck as a slender finger tip circled my clit, teasing and slow.

"Please," I whispered. I had no idea if she could hear me. Her face was pressed to my hair, and I could feel her breath but other than that, I was unaware of anything beyond her long fingers sliding back into me. I turned, smiled up at her. Her eyes were wide open and clear and when they met mine, they carved into a smile. I never have looked at someone so closely in the eye when they were touching me like this and something about this woman, and this night, and this city made me completely sure this is the best decision I've ever made. Turning me to face her, she swiveled us, shoving me back against the wall and bent to kiss me, first soft and then harder, hungry. When I thought I'd lose my breath, she wandered away, sucking at my job, my ear, my neck, my pulse hammered wildly. My dress has fallen back down to my thighs, but her fingers to the edge, slowly lifting.

"Someone could walk down here," she reminded me, give me one last out, even as she lowered my panties enough for me to step out of them.

I don't care. Not even a little. And maybe even a tiny part of me wanted someone to wander up here, to see this perfect woman touching me like this. I could hardly think of anything other than where her hands were, how my skirt was over my hips now, how she pressed so hard and insistent against my stomach.

"Don't care."

"You're drunk. Too drunk for this? I want you to remember it if I fuck you."  
" So make it memorable… Do you do this a lot?"

She was right there poised against me, her smile aimed at my face.

"Do what? Sex with a beautiful woman who won't tell me her name and prefers me to fuck her in a public Holloway rather than in a proper place like bed, or limo?" She started to push her fingers in achingly slow the light burned in her eyes and holy crap I didn't think sex with strangers was supposed to be intimate like this.

She watched every reaction crossed my face.

"No, Estrella. I must admit I've never done this." Her voice was tight and then her words fell away because she was deep inside me, here in this chaotic club where people walked past I know we're only fifteen feet away. Yet my entire world was reduced to the place where she filled me where she rubs firmly against my clit with every stroke where the warm skin of her hips pressed into my thighs. There wasn't any more talking only small thrusts that grew faster and harder. The space between us filled instead with quiet sounds of praise and urging. Her teeth pressed into my neck and I gripped her shoulders for fear I might fall over the edge or even somewhere else, a world where I couldn't get enough of being exposed, having my pleasure so visible to anyone watching, especially… this woman.

"Christ, you're gorgeous." She leaned back not looking away from where she was entering me," I took a video of you dancing," she whispered.

It was a few long moments before her words registered above the feeling of her moving in me.

"Wh… What?"

"I don't know why. I won't show it around I just... "she watched my face, knowing enough presumably so I could think."You were so fucking possessed. I wanted to remember. Bloody hell I feel like I am confessing my sins."

I swallowed, and she bent closer, kissing me before I ask," is it weird that I like that you did that?"

She laughed into my mouth, moving in and out of me again. "Just enjoy it, right? I'd like to watch you were performing for me. There isn't anything wrong it.

She lifted my legs wrapping in around her waist, she started to move really fast, she let out the most Delicious grunts and there would be no question what was happening if someone happened upon this little corner of the balcony. With that thought alone, where we were, what we were doing, and the possibility that someone could see this woman taking me so roughly I was lost. My head rolled back against the wall and I could feel it building. I cried out, not even caring a little if someone could hear me I didn't even need to see her face to know she was watching me come apart.

Holy fuck. Her hips grew ragged and rough as she rode my fingers then she came with the low groan, fingers digging hard into my hip. _She might bruise me_ , I thought and then _I hope she bruises me. I wanted a reminder this night, and this Regina when I left, to better differentiate the new life I was so determined to have from the old one_. She's still, leaning heavily against me, with her lips planted gently against my neck.

" Good lord, Little Stranger. You wrecked me."

I imagined how we looked from across the club a woman pressing a woman into the wall, the hint of her legs around her hips visible in the darkness. Her hand smoothed up my leg from my ankle to my hip, and then with the small Moan she set me on my feet, step back. Holy hell, I had never come close to doing something this insane. My grin spread over my entire face as my leg shook almost to the point of collapse. _Don't freak out Regina. Don't freak out_. It was perfect. Everything about this had been perfect, but it had to end right here. Do it all differently. No name, no strings. No regrets. Straightening my dress, I stretched on my toes to kiss her lips once.

"That was unbelievable." She nodded, humming a little into the kiss. It was.

"Shall we…?"

"I'm going downstairs." I begin to back away and gave her a small wave she's staring at me, confused. "You're..."

"Good. I'm good. You're good?"

She nodded dazed

"So... Thanks." Adrenaline still buzzing in my veins I turn before she could respond and left her standing with her pants unbuttoned, her lips twisted in a surprise grin.

Minutes later I found Kathryn and Ruby, both of them ready to head home. Arm and arm we left the club, and only after we were in the limo, and I was silently reliving every second of what did happen with that strange, powerful woman, did I remember I left my underwear on the floor at her feet, and the video of me dancing on her phone.

 **Thank you for reading! To those who asked for smut I hope this was okay even if the word 'clit' wasn't used 367 times like you asked ;)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hi Guys! So I have decided that this chapter will be in Emma's POV. The POV will go back and forth each chapter.**

Saturday-My life was perfect, blazing career, orderly flat, and several women available for play whenever and wherever. Sunday and Monday- a fucking mess. I was unable to concentrate, obsessively watching that damn video, and had a stranger's knickers burning a hole in my side table in my bedroom. Shifting in my chair, I ran my thumb over the screen, turning my phone on for the thousandth time today. The lunch meeting had veered off topic again, and I tried my best to look like I gave a damn about what anyone was going on about, but as soon as the topic of golf came up, I was done. All I could think about was her anyway. I glanced down; making sure the volume was muted and hesitating for only a moment before pressing play. The screen was dark, the image was blurry, but I didn't need to make out every detail to know what came next even without the sound I could remember the loud music, the way her hips move to the beat while her dress hitched further and further up her thighs. My stranger has the most exquisite skin I never seen. Fuck, I would have licked her from the ankle the hip and back again and she's given me the chance. I know now that she was dancing just for me that she knew I was watching. And she fucking loved it. Christ. That tiny slip of a dress her messy chin length caramel hair and those enormous, innocent brown eyes. Those made me want to do very, very bad things to her while she watched. Her perfect arse and tense didn't hurt either.

"Your horrible lunch date Swan." August reached over and pulled a chip from my plate.

"Mmm?" I murmured, I've still down, careful not to react in any way. "You're discussing golf. I'm over here killed by boredom. I'm sitting here, quite literally dead."

If there's one thing I learned in this business, is that you never show your cards, even when you're holding the worst hand imaginable. Or a video of a girl dancing just before you fucked her against the wall.

"Whatever you're looking at on that phone is obviously a hundred times better than Tiger Woods looks this year and you're not sharing."

If he only knew.

"Taking a peek at the market," I said with a small shake of my head. I almost let slip a groan as I close the video slipping my phone into the inside of my suit jacket, "nothing of interest to you."

August drained the last of his drink and left.

" I hate that you're such a good liar."

If we hadn't been the best of mates since opening one of the most successful venture capital firms in the city three years ago, I might have actually believed him.

"I think you're looking at porn on your phone." Ignore him.

"Hey, Emma," Mr. Gold, our head tech advisor, piped in.

"Whatever happened with that woman you were talking to at the bar?"

Normally when my best mate asked about a random woman I'd met, I'd shrug and say," quick shag" or even simply," limo."

But for some reason, this time I shook my head instead," nothing."

Another round of drinks arrived at our table and I think the server absently even though I hadn't yet touch my first one. My guys move restlessly around the room. It was typical lunchtime crowds, business meetings and ladies who lunch. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. Gold frowned, closing the file he had been looking over as he slipped into his briefcase. He lifted his glass to his forehead.

"Is anyone else still paying for the weekend, though? I'm too old for that shit anymore." I lift my Scotch to my lips and immediately regretted it. How could a drink I had practically everyday since puberty remind me of a woman I had seen exactly once? I looked up at the sound of a throat clearing.

"Hey," August said.

I followed his gaze to wear a man was crossing the dining room.

"Isn't that David Nolan?"

"Well, I'll be damned," I said, as the tall shape of my old friend moved across the restaurant.

"Do you know him?" asked gold.

"Yes, we went into uni together he was my flat mate for three years. Called a couple of months ago I wanted to borrow my place to propose to his girlfriend. We talked about moving David media's expansion to the Chicago office."

We watched as David stopped at the table on the far side of the room, smiling like an idiot before bending to kiss a stunning brunette.

"I'm guessing France did the trick." August laughed.

But it wasn't the future Mrs. David Nolan who had my attention. It was a beautiful woman who stood behind her, reaching for her purse. Caramel honey hair, the same red lips I've been kissing at the club the same light brown eyes. It was all I can do to stay in my chair and not go straight to her. She smiled at David, and then he said something that made both women laugh as the three of them left the restaurant and I could do nothing but stare on. I suppose it was time to pay my old friend of visit.

Emma Swan. Large metal door separating and inner office from David media's outer reception area opened, and the man himself walked out to me.

"How the hell are you?" I stepped away from the floor to ceiling windows and shook David's hand.

"Brilliant," I said, glancing around. The spaces Itself was at least two stories high in the atrium, and the Polish marble flooring gleamed in the full sun. A small seating area was set off to the side, with whether couches and in enormous class bubble chandelier hanging from at least twenty feet up. Behind the broad reception desk, a smooth waterfall was Bill into the wall, the water cascade over a slate bluestone. A small cluster of employees hurried from the elevators to various offices, throwing David nervous glances.

"Looks like you're settling right in." He motion for me to follow him inside.

"We're slowly getting things rolling. Chicago is after all still Chicago." He let me into his office, headquarters sweet with seamless windows and breathtaking view of the park.

"And the fiancée?" I asked, nodding to a framed photograph on his desk.

"I'm guessing she liked the Mediterranean. Why else would she agree to marry an arrogant twat like you?"

David laughed. "Kathryn is perfect. Thanks for letting me take her there."

I shrugged. "Just an empty house most of the time. I'm glad it did the trick."

Motioning for me to sit, David sat himself in a large wing back chair, his back to a wall of windows.

"It's been a while. How are things?"

"Fantastic."

"So I hear." He scratched his jaw studying me.

"I'd love for you to come over sometime now that were removed in. I've told Kathryn all about you."

"I hope that he's quite exaggeration."

Of anyone in Chicago David probably have the most jerk from my wildest days. Well, he conceded, "I've told her just enough to want to meet you."

"I love to catch up, any time.' I glanced at the buildings out the window behind him, hesitating.

David wasn't easy to read in these kinds of situations, it was one of the things that made him so good at what he did.

"But I'll admit that I'm here and ask her favor."

He leaned forward smiling. "I figured."

I'm comfortable and worked with for some of the most intimidating people in the world, but David never failed to make me take the time to choose my words carefully. Particularly when asking about something this... Delicate.

"I've been a bit preoccupied with a woman I met the other night. I let her go before getting her number, and I've been kicking myself ever since. As luck would have it, I spotted are having lunch with you and your lovely Kathryn yesterday afternoon."

He considered me for a moment. "You're talking about Regina?"

"Regina," I said, perhaps a bit too triumphantly.

"Oh no," he said, shaking his head." Not a chance, Emma."

"What?" But with David I couldn't maintain an innocent expression for long.

The man knew me only from my university days. Maybe not my best representation of a good behavior.

"Kathryn will have my balls if she finds out I'll let you anywhere near Regina no way."

I press to hand to my chest.

"I'm wounded, Mate. What if my intentions are honorable?"

David laughed and he stayed to walk over to the window.

"Regina's..." He hesitated." She's just come out of a bad breakup. and you're... "He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "You're not her type."

"Come on, David. I'm not a nineteen year old wanker anymore."

He threw me an amused smirk. "Okay, but you're talking to the man who saw you successfully hook up with three women in a single evening, without any of them knowing about the others."

I grinned." you've got it all wrong. They were all very well acquainted by the end of the night."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Just give me her number. We'll consider it a thank you for the loan of my generous villa."

"You're such an asshole."

"I believe I've heard that before," I said, standing.

"Regina and I, we had... An interesting conversation."

"A conversation. Regina had a conversation with you. I'm skeptical."

"A rather enjoyable one, yes. She's intriguing, that little one. Unfortunately, we were interrupted before I could get her name. I see you. What luck I had, running into you. And all." I raise my eyebrows expectedly.

"Lucky, yes... "Smiling, then David took his seat again looking up at me.

"But I'm afraid you'll have to find your luck somewhere else. I'm quite fond of my testicles, I'd like to keep them. I'm not going to smooth the way for you here."

"You always were a prick."

"So I've heard. Lunch Thursday?"

"You bet."

I left David's office intend on having a look around the company's new quarters. They taken over three floors of the building and I'd heard they'd already had quite a bit of work done.

"Not bad, David," I murmured, walking back into the hallway and staring up and a large Timothy Hogan photography installment. "Good taste in art for a total wanker."

"What are you doing here?" I looked up to find a very surprised Regina frozen halfway down the hall.

I couldn't help breaking into a grin, this really was my lucky day. Or ... Not, if her expression was any indication.

"Regina!" I sang.

"What a lovely surprise. I was just at a meeting. I'm Emma, by the way. Pleasure to finally put a name to the"- I dropped my eyes and studied her chest, and then the rest of her, through her snug black dress—"Face."

Christ, she was hot. When I looked back up, her eyes had grown to roughly the size of saucers. But the woman had the most enormous brown eyes. If they were any bigger, she'd be a leamur. She grabbed my arm, pulling me down the hallway, her fitted me high boots clanking on the stone tiles.

"Lovely to seeyou so soon, Regina."

"How did you find me?" She whispered.

"A friend of a friend." I wave my hands dismissively and looked her over. Her bangs were to the left side and held in place by a tiny bobby pin.

"Regina it's quite a lovely name, you know." She narrowed her eyes.

"I should have guessed you were a psychopath."

I laughed. "Not quite."

A young woman walked by, ducking her head and muttering a timid," good afternoon, Miss Mills," before scampering away, _and we have a last name. Thank you, terrified intern_!

"Regina Mills," I crowed." Perhaps we could continue this conversation in a more private location?"

She looked around and dropped her voice. "I'm not having sex with you in my office, if that's what you're here for."

Oh, she's fantastic.

"I actually just came by to welcome me properly to Chicago. But I suppose I could just do that out here..."

"You have two minutes," she said, turning on her heel and moving toward her office.

We turned corner after corner, finally reaching another smaller reception area lined in Windows overlooking the city skyline. A young man sitting at a circular desk looked up as we passed.

"I'll be in my office, Jefferson," she said over her shoulder." No interruptions, please." With the door closed behind us she turned to face me.

" Two minutes."

"If pressed, I could get you off in two minutes." I step forward, reaching out to brush my thumb along her hip. "But I think we both know that you'd like me to take longer."

"Two minutes to explain why you're here," she clarified her voice shaking slightly and how you found me.

"Well, I began, I met this woman on Saturday. Fucked her against the wall, in fact. And I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. She was extraordinary,beautiful, funny, sexy as hell. But she didn't give me her name and she left me with nothing but her knickers… Could hardly even be considered a trail of breadcrumbs. "I close the distance between us tucking her hair behind your ear and running my nose along the inside of her draw.

"And when I came this morning touching myself while thinking about how she felt I still don't know what name to say." Clearing her throat Regina pushed me away, moving to the other side of her desk.

"That doesn't explain how you found me," she said, cheeks flushed.

I'd seen her under the strobe lights, had thrown back and eyes closed, but I wanted to see her bear, with the sunlight streaming through the office window. I wanted to know exactly how far that blush could spread down her body. I dropped the teasing a bit a little. This Regina was so starkly different from the flirtatious New York transplant I'd met at the bar.

"I happened to see you at lunch yesterday with David. We go way back. I simply put two and two together and hoped I'd see you again."

" You told David about Saturday?" She hissed, and the flesh I've been admiring drained from your face.

"God, no. I assure you, I don't have a death wish. I just asked for her number. He refused."

Her shoulders relaxed the smallest bed." Okay."

"Look, it's a coincidence that I saw you, and I'm coming off a bit strong by being here, but I did want to see David regardless. If you ever want to have dinner... "I dropped my card on your desk and turn to leave.

"The video," she said abruptly. "What did you do with it?"

I turn back, and the urge to tease her became almost unbearable. But the longer I talk to answer, the more panicked she appeared. She finally broke. "Did you put it on youtube or porn tube or whatever sites people use?"

I burst out laughing, unable to keep it in. "What?"

"Just please tell me you didn't."

"God, of course not! A limit I've watched it approximately seven hundred thousand times, but no, I would never share it."

She looks down at her hands in front of her, picking at her finger now. I could I see it? What was that inner voice? Curiosity? Something more? I moved around the desk just to stand behind her. She was still tense but she lean back against me, her hands clinched in fists at her sides. I pulled my phone from my jacket and I found the video, pressing play in holding it up for her to see. With the volume up, the beat of the music played from the small speakers. She appeared on the screen, dancing with the arms above her head, and just like the first time I watched in person, I felt myself begin to get wet.

"Right there," I said against her neck, "is when you wondered whether I noticed your dress catching up. Isn't it?" I press my hips against her backside.

I set my phone on the desk in front of her, placing my hand on her waist. And there I said, nodding to the video again she picked up my phone and looked at it more closely.

"The way you looked at me over your shoulder, that's my favorite part. That look on your face, it's like you're dancing just for me."  
" Oh god," she whispered I hope she was remembering what it felt like, what it was like to have me watch her. And then she picked up my hand and moves it slowly to the hem of her dress, when she lifted to her hip. Her skin the snake beneath my palm, and I slip my hand to her stomach, the muscles of her abdomen quivered under my touch.

"Are you dancing for me?" I asked, needing the reminder.

She nodded, pushing my hand lower. Christ, this woman was a tangle contradiction.

"What else did you think about?" I asked." Did you think about my face between your thighs, in my mouth?"

She nodded again, biting her lip.

"I wanted to touch you," I said my hands moving down beneath her panties. "Just like this.

Her body bowed beneath me, curling against my own to bend over the desk.

"I want to feel how wet you are," I said, my breath ragged, my voice low and rough.

"How wet you are knowing that I came this morning while watching you." My fingers slipped lower.

She gasped.

"Are you watching?" I asked, pushing the single finger inside.

She nodded and I slipped in a second, my thumb moving in circles over her clit.

"You're so fucking wet," I said, my teeth dragging along for shoulder.

"We... Shouldn't do this here," she said.

And still, she pushed further into my hand. All around my steady rhythm, I could feel her begin to tighten, her breath coming out in tiny, sharp pants. What's a guilty wins, I remove my hand and turned her to face me. She was practically drugged, eyelids heavy, lips parted.

"And unfortunately my two minutes are up." I kissed her cheek, the corner of her mouth, and then each of her eyelids when she closed her eyes. And then I took my phone out of her hand and walked out of her office.

 **Thank you, guys for reading and the reviews. You are all Amazing!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hi Guys, I'm back! Sorry it took so long. Life happened somewhere in the middle of this week and this is the first time I have actually sat down to write without too many distractions… So I hope this was worth the wait**.

A stranger took a video of me dancing. And then he found where I worked, because apparently his buddies with my boss oh, and I asked him to show me the video. Following that, I made him put his hands in my underwear again, but this time in my new office, improved to both of us just how much the idea of her touching herself while watching the video turn me on.

"Oh, dear God."

"That's the tenth time you've said that in the past fifteen minutes, Regina. Come out here and spill." My assistant, Jefferson, leaned against the doorway." Unless it's so scandalous I need to come in there and close your door."

"It's nothing. I'm just..." I straighten the pins in a cup on my desk and tap some papers into alignment.

"Nothing."

He curved his lips into a skeptical smile. "You're a terrible liar."

"Really. It's a huge, gigantic, regrettable nothing."

Jefferson walked into my office and collapsed in the chair across from my desk.

"Did this nothing happen at Kathryn's engagement party on Saturday?"

"Possibly."

"And was it of the female nothing variety?"

"Potentially."

"Was the female nothing the slice of Emma Swan that was just in your office?"

"What? No!" I replied without blinking.

I'd high five myself later for that bit of unexpected smoothness. Jefferson was right the first time, I was a terrible liar. But apparently my shame over the public wall sex situation was enough to tap into as yet unknown skills.

"And how do you know who Emma Swan is?"

"Let me ask you," he began, " what was the first thing you did when you arrived and had settled into your home?"

"Found the closest sources of wine and cupcakes," I said. "Obviously."

He laughed."Obviously. But because my goal is not to be an old plump spinster, what I do is check out the scene. Where are all the fun places to eat, dance, party?"

"Too meet all of the women," I added.

He acknowledged this with a small wink.

"All of the women. And find out everything I can, and in doing so, I also find out about the who's who in this city." He leaned forward and gave me a wide, bright smile. "In this city, Emma Swan is a who."

"A who? How?"

He shook his head and laughed. "She's a page six, Gina. City of London import a few years back. Brilliant VC mastermind, always fucking some hot celebrity or trust fund princess. Different flavor of arm candy every week. Blah blah blah."

Great. I'd managed to select the same slutty publicity hound make and model of my previous boyfriend. But here, not only was Emma a well-known womanizer, she was also a high profile venture capitalist, whom I would no doubt cross paths with time and time again for work. Into hand video of me dancing like a stripper while I imagined her head between my legs. I groaned again.

"Oh, dear God."

"Calm down. You look like you're about to pass out. Have you had lunch?"

"No."

"Look. You're way ahead here. We only have four contracts that require any kind of attention and if I know as well as I think I do, I'm guessing you've combed through them a hundred times already. Kathryn hasn't even received any furniture for her office, her assistant isn't even in Chicago yet, and David's only shooed out three people today. Clearly, nothing is on fire here that requires your attention. There's plenty of time for you to slow down and get some food." I took a deep breath, smiled at him.

Jefferson stood up, walked around to my side of the desk, and pulled me up by my arm. "Right. Go, get some food. I'll pull the contracts and you can deal with them when you're back. Breathe, Regina."

Grudgingly, I went and grabbed my purse from my closet. August was right. Aside from the celebration with the girls two nights ago, and the sleepless nights I'd been spending unpacking my home, I'd spent a majority of my time at the office, trying to get everything up and running. Now, do I go left or right to find the hidden Chinese place David liked? What was it called... Something garden? I stood, struggling to get my bearings, while a stream of business men and women parted around me like water around the rock sitting dumbly in a river. But just as I reached for my phone to text Kathryn, I saw a familiar tall shape duck into the doorway across the street. I looked up at the name on the tiny storefront: Hunan Garden. The restaurant was dim, practically empty, and smelled amazing. I couldn't remember the last time I've eaten anything more substantial then a granola bar. My mouth watered and, for a moment I forgot I was supposed to be on high alert. I moved here to start fresh. Starting fresh meaning I'm putting my career first, finding myself, not falling into another messed-up Stepford relationship. And that settled it. I would get my lunch there, but I would do after telling Emma she needed to never, ever come into my workplace like that again. And when I put her hand under my dress just now it was a total accident. Complete slip. Unintentional.

"Regina?"

My name was quiet, erotic sounding in her accent, and I turn toward her voice. She was in a booth in the corner, peeking around the tall menu in her hands. She lowered it, clearly surprised, but then she smiled and I wanted to punch her for how jittery that made me feel. Her features were even more prominent in the low shadows of the restaurant. She looks even more dangerous. I walked to her table and ignore the way she moved over to let me in beside her. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and swayed when she moved. I wanted to reach out to see if it was as soft as it looked beneath the cone of the overhead light. Damn it.

"I'm not here to join you," I said, straightening my shoulders.

"I just needed to get a few things straight—" She spread her palms out in front of her. "By all means." Taking a deep breath I said, "I had the most fun I can reasonably remember with you at the club the other night-"

"Likewise."

I held up my hand. "But I moved here to start over. I wanted to do something crazy and I did, but that isn't who I am. I love my job and my colleagues, okay. I can't have you walking into my office to flirt with me. I can't ever act like that at work again."

I lean forward and lowered my voice. "And I can't believe you kept that video."

She had the presence of mind to look contrite. "I'm sorry. I really did intend to delete it." Leaning forward on her elbows, she said, "The thing is, I can't seem to stop watching it. Watching that is better than a shot of fucking whiskey for my nerves. Better than even the filthiest porn."

A low hum spread through my belly in between my legs. "And I think that you like hearing that I also suspect that the wild estrella I met at the club is a much larger part of Regina Mills then you like to think."

"She is not." I shook my head. "And I can't do this."

" This," she said," is simply a meal. Sit down with me."

I didn't move.

" Come on." She sighed quietly. "You let me fuck you on Saturday, you put my hand beneath your clothes a few minutes ago, and now you won't to join me for lunch. Do you always make a point of being so confusing?"

" Emma."

" Regina."  
I hesitated for a Long Beat before I slid into the booth beside her, and felt the radiating warmth of her long, solid frame next to me.

"You look beautiful," she said.

I looked down at the simple black dress I wore. My bare legs peeked out below the hem and just above the knees. She ran a finger from my shoulder to my wrist and my bare skin broke out in goose bumps.

"I won't come to your office again like that," she said, so quietly I had to lean a little closer to hear her. "But I do want to see you again."

I shook my head, staring at her long fingers on me.

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

When the waiter stopped at our table, Emma's fingers lingered on my hand, and when I was unable to think of anything to order she chose meals for us both.

"I hope you like prawns," she said grinning.

"I do." Her hands on mine, her leg so closely pressed to my thigh, what did I want? I didn't want to be continually distracted by a force of energy like Emma, but I remained unable to pull out of her orbit.

"Sorry, I'm a little distracted."

Her other hand crossed over her body and slip below the table. I felt the light brush of fingers along my side.

"Distracted by me? Or by work?"

"At the moment, you. But I should be distracted by work."

"You have plenty of time for that. I'm going to wager your assistant sent you out to eat."

I leaned back to look at him. "Spying?"

"No need. He looks like a busy body, and you look like you rarely remember to take lunch."

Her fingers pushed the hem of my dress up higher, higher, higher to my hip bone. "This alright?" Her accent dropped the last bit of her sentence into a whisper.

It was more than alright, but my heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Once again, I was letting her completely take my reason away, hiding in the dark corner where I couldn't find it.

"We are in a restaurant."  
" I'm aware."

She slipped beneath the soaked lace of my panties and slid her fingers over my clit, dipping down into my wetness.

"Good god, Regina. I'd love to spread you on the table and have you for lunch."

For a brief pause, my skin ignited.

"You can't say things like that."

"Why? We're the only people in this place besides that old man in the corner, the waiter, and the cook in the back. No one can hear me."

"That isn't what I meant."

"I can't say things like that because of what it does to you?" She asked.

I nodded, unable to say anything when she slipped two fingers into me.

"We have maybe ten minutes before the food comes out. Think I could make you come that fast?"

It wasn't as if she didn't already have two fingers deep inside of me, but for some reason when she put it like that, I grew hyper aware of where we were. It was a torment the knowledge of what I should do in a quiet restaurant like this- sip my tea, I eat my lunch and the desire to do something completely unlike me; have this woman finger me where anyone could walk in and see. It was the same crazy fantasy from the club, all over again the potential of being caught with this beautiful strange woman, and getting away with it. She began to move her thumb in small circles, but kept her fingers pressed it deep, unmoving. Her arm briefly shifted above the table, but below where the tablecloth had her hips, and explosion was building. I stared at her arm, her dress shirt peeking out from her suit jacket, and could feel her watching my face, watching every single breath I took, every gasp and every time I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. Her confident, firm touch built a heavy ache between my legs and I pushed into her, wanting more, and harder somehow. In the distance a dish crashed to the floor, but Emma quietly moaning my name immediately eclipsed the sound. Our waiter emerged from the kitchen and headed toward us.

"Look at you," Emma said, leaning to kiss my neck just below my ear.

Her breath was warm on my skin, and I was torn between focusing on her touch and fretting about the man walking across the room tour table. The combination of her touch and the fear of being caught almost made me fall to pieces.

As if she knew this, Emma murmured, "No one in here knows you're about to come all over my hand."

I expected her to stop, to put her hands on the table, but Emma simply stilled her thumb as the waiter stopped at our table, and refilled her water. Ice clinked against the glass, and a drop of condensation slid from the rim to the table cloth, fanning out in growing larger and larger as more water fell. It was as if the glass were melting along with me. From above the table, it looks like Emma had simply reached across her body and put her hand on my leg. She slid her thumb across my clit once, I gasped.

"Your food should be out in just a minute," the waiter said with a bland smile.

Emma pressed her thumb hard into my clit and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. She smiled up at the waiter.

"Thank you."

The waiter turned and walked away when Emma looked at me, with such barely concealed mischief, Dizzying relief mixed with big stab of disappointment, and I felt myself fully melt in her hands.

"That's it," she whispered, rocking her palm against me as she slipped a third finger inside.

With this, she stretched me to the blissful age of pain and I felt indecent, like I was doing something irrevocably filthy, but she just watched me crave more of it all.

"Oh, fuck, Regina. That's it."

My nails dug into the leather cushion below me, and she risk be noticed by beginning to pump her fingers, her shoulders rocking. My head fell back against the booth and I let out the smallest Moan, completely disproportionate to the shaking climax that tore through my body.

"Oh god," I groaned as she prolonged it with her long fingers pushing even deeper.

I turned to press my face into the shoulder of her suit the stifle my cry. She slowed, and stilled before kissing my temple, and then pulled her fingers out. Lifting her hand from under the table, she pressed her fingers to her mouth once, briefly, before wiping them on her napkin. And then she licked her lips, watching me.

"Your tongue tastes like candy, but your pussy tastes even better." She leaned in and kissed me deeply.

Jesus, who was this woman possessing my brain? Before any line of thinking could get me into even more trouble, my phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out David.

 **Back from meeting. But sit down at 2**

The clock on my phone read one forty five.

"I have to go."

We're establishing a pattern here Regina. You come, you go." I offered her a half smile, half wince, but when the waiter came back with their food, I slid a twenty on to the table and asked him to put my name in to go container.

"I'd like your number," Emma said, stuffing the money back in my purse

"Absolutely not," I laughed.

I had no idea how this have unraveled. Okay, that was a lie, I knew exactly how it had un raveled she'd Started whispering in that hot accent and then fingered me, but I knew better than to let myself get involved with Emma. For one, she was a player, and in no way did I want to go down that road again. And two, my job. It had to come first.

"I will eventually get it from David, you know. We go way back."

"David won't give it to you without my permission. Very few people want to punch my ex more than I do, but David is one of them." I kissed Emma's jaw, and got up.

"Thanks for the appetizer. Delete the video."

"I'll consider it if you go out with me again," she answered, eyes shining with amusement. I exited, biting back a smile.

 **Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Surprise! Another random update today, I felt like there need to be a chapter with a little Regina as power bottom ;)**

Three days after I'd given her an orgasm for lunch I wasn't any less obsessed.

"So who were you bringing tonight?" August asked absently, eyes on the folder copy of the times in his hands.

The drive back to the office from the tailor has been silent up to this point, broken only by the sound of the engine and an occasional car horn shout from the street. I continued to go over the files I brought, photographs from a new exhibit as I answered, "going solo, actually."

He looked up at me. "You don't have a date?"

"No." I glanced over just in time to see his eyebrows in shop in surprise.

"What? How long have we known each other, Emma?"

"Six years, I'd say."

"And in all that time, have you ever attended a social function without a date?"

"I really wouldn't remember."

"Perhaps we should check page six. I bet they'd know," he deadpanned.

"Very funny."

"It's unusual, that's all. It's our biggest event of the year and you don't have a date."

"It hardly matters, yeah?"

He laughed. "Are you serious with me right now? Who is Emma Swan taking? Is one of the first things people ask when there was a party like this."

"I like how you play me up as the skirt chasing wolf in contrast to you, all upstanding and virtuous."

"Oh, I never said anything about being virtuous," he said over the top of his paper. "I'm simply suggesting that people might wonder if you're meeting someone there, that's all."

I turn back to my files as I considered this. In truth, I hadn't made a date for the fundraiser. I hadn't made a date because I wasn't interested in taking anyone. Which was weird. Maybe August was right. Ever since I met Regina, other women seem predictable and tame. August was also right when he said the annual Swan & Summer charity gala was our biggest event of the summer season. It was held at the Adler Planetarium, and everyone who was anyone in Chicago would be in attendance. With dancing, dinner, and the silent auction that followed, we manage to raise hundreds of thousands of dollars for pediatric cancer Foundation every year. The dreary sky of the afternoon had cleared, but the smell of a storm still hung in the air when my car stopped at the barricades in front of the museum. A valet opened my door and I climbed out fastening the button of my tuxedo jacket as I stood. My name was called from several directions, the pop and flash of camera the right thing like a small lightning storm within the press area.

"Emma! Where is the date?"

"Emma, quick photo! Quick, over here!"

"Any truth to the rumor of the Art Institute endowment?"

I smiled and posed for pictures, waving as a made my way inside. I felt like I was on autopilot, glad that I kept the press from inside the event tonight. I simply didn't have the energy. Guess for directed through the museum and out to the garden, where the majority of the party would be held, we're crowds of well dressed people mingled while sipping cocktails and champagne, discussing money and each other and whoever happened to be the gossip of the day. A series of white tents had been erected, each of them lit from below by pools of brightly colored lights. An Orchestra that at one end of the garden, a DJ booth for the after party at the other.

The air was heavy and humid, in the night clung to my skin almost uncomfortably. I crossed to a line of large table dressed in White and dropping in Crystal. Reaching for the Flute of champagne, I felt someone come near beside me.

"Perfect as usual, Emma. You really out done yourself." I blinked over to see David standing next to me.

"It's bloody hot out here, is what it is," I said, nodding toward the drink he held in each hand.

"Here with your Kathryn, I assume."

"And your date is... Flying solo tonight," I answered. "Hosting duties and what have you."

David laughed, bringing his glass to his lips. He didn't comment but it was impossible to miss the way his eyes shifted over my shoulder. I turned just in time to see Kathryn and Regina walking back from the restroom. Regina looked stunning in a red gown with beading covering the bodice and trickling into the skirt. Silver stiletto peeked out beneath the hem of her dress. It took a moment before I could speak.

"She's here with someone, Emma."

I turn in gate at David before looking around our immediate vicinity to try to spot who she might have come with. "She is? Who?"

"Me."

"Wait, what? No way."

"Christ, I'm kidding. Look at your face." He scratched his jaw and waved casually and someone across the room and I legitimately wanted to punch him.

"Emma," he said, voice low and serious now.

"Regina is Kathryn's best friend and an important member of my team. I trust your business sense more than I trust almost anyone, but your history with women is not exactly pristine. I'm the last person to point fingers, trust me, but don't do anything stupid."

"Calm down. It's not as if I'm planning to drag her off for a romp in the coat closet or anything."

"Wouldn't be the first time," he said with a smile, draining his glass.

"For you, either, mate," I answered. David looked almost relieved as I left him at the table, and for the briefest of moments, I felt almost guilty for lying to him. The truth was that while I did want to drag Regina off to the nearest coat closet, I also want a moment to just watch her. I made my way across the garden, shaking a few hands and thanking others for their donations, keeping Regina in my peripheral vision as I went. I watch her from a distance, captivated by how beautiful she looks tonight. Her gown was long and fitted, displaying every curve perfectly and emphasizing some of my favorite ones. I remember the way she looked that night on the dance floor, wild and her too short dress into high shoes, and compared that to the sophisticated woman here tonight. I could tell even then that what we'd done had been out of character for her. But I don't think I understood exactly how much until tonight. She was poised and delicate... So, still, there was something else, something neglected recklessness beneath her prim exterior. My eyes moved along the lines of her throat and across her collarbone, and I wondered what she was wearing under her gown. I wondered what had brought forth the woman who had fucked me against the wall in a club full of people. I was fairly certain David hadn't been joking when he suggested I stay away from Regina. Or that his fiancé would have his balls, and mine, too if she found out. David was obviously aware that I had more than a casual interest in Regina, but he was tight as a vault and, despite his protest, would never interfere if this were what Regina wanted. But Kathryn, she was a different matter all together. She is seemed too smart, her gaze too knowing. I don't know much about the future Mrs. Nolan, but I was sure that if David had finally met his match, I did not want to be on her bad side. And despite that, I was quite enjoying this little game Regina and I seem to be playing. When the orchestra shifted into a slower song, I watched a few people excuse themselves from their circles and venture out onto the dance floor. I walked around the edge of the garden, stepping behind Regina and tapping her on one bare shoulder. She turned, her smile slipping from her face when she saw me.

"Well, hello to you," I said. Regina took a long sip of her champagne flute before addressing me.

"How are you tonight, miss Swan?"

"Miss Swan, was it?" I smiled.

"I see you've done a little checking up on me. I must have made quite an impression." She returned a polite.

"A quick Google search give the girl plenty of information."

"Hasn't anyone ever told you the internet is full of rumor and falsehood?" I stepped closer, brushing the back of my fingers along her arm.

It was soft and smooth, and I noted the way goosebumps spread along her skin.

"You look stunning tonight, by the way." She met my eyes, sizing me up. Even as she put a little distance between us, she murmured, "you don't look so bad yourself."

I feigned shocked. "Did you just compliment me?"

"I may have. It would be a shame for both of us to have gotten all dressed up and not share a dance. Wouldn't you agree?"

Regina glanced around the garden and I added "just to dance Estrella."

She emptied her glass and set it on the tray of a passing waiter.

"Just to dance."

Placing my hand on the small of her back, I guided her to a dimly lit corner of the dance floor.

"I enjoyed our lunch the other day," I said taking her in my arms.

"Perhaps we could do it again. Maybe with a slightly different menu?" She's smirked, and looked past me. I pulled her body flush to mine, eliciting that little quirk of her eyebrow I was beginning to like so much.

"So how are you finding Chicago?"

"Different she said not as big. Not as noisy." She tilted her head, finally looking up at me.

"The women are little pushy."

I laughed. "You say that as if it's a bad thing."

"I suppose that would depend on the woman."

"And what about this woman?" She blinked away, smiling politely again. It struck me that Regina behaved like a woman who was very much used to being watched in public.

"Look, I'm very flattered by your attention, Emma. But why are you interested in me? Can't we admit we had a good time and leave it at that?"

"I like you," I said, shrugging.

"I rather like your kink."

She laughed. "My kink? That's one I never heard before."

"Well, that's a shame. Tell me, when you fantasize, what's it about? Is it about sweet, gentle sex in bed?"

She looked up at me with a challenge in her eyes.

"Sometimes, yes."

"But is it also about being touched in a restaurant, or anyone could see?" I leaned in, whispering against shell of her ear.

" Or fucking in the club?"

I felt her swallow, felt her shaky breath before she straightened, putting a socially acceptable amount of distance between us.

"Sometimes, of course, who doesn't have those fantasies?"

"A lot of people don't. And even more people don't ever act on them."

"Why are you so hung up on this? I'm sure you could turn that smile on any woman here and take her in any room in the museum."

"Because, unfortunately, I don't want any other woman here. You become quite a mystery to me."

" How can you have such a paradox behind as big brown eyes?"

Who was that woman who fucked me in front of all those people?

"Maybe I just wanted to see how it felt to do something crazy like that."

"And it felt amazing, didn't it?" There was no hesitating one she looked up at me.

"Yes. But look," she said, taking a step back.

My arms fell to my side.

"I'm not interested in being anyone's play thing right now."

"I believe I'm asking to be yours."

Shaking her head, she fought of smile and looked up at me. "Stop being cute."

"Meet me upstairs."

"What? No."

"The empty they ballroom adjacent to the restroom. It's up the stairs into you right." I stepped closer, then kissed her cheek as if to think her for the dance.

I left her there just as the music came to a stop and the announced that dinner would be served inside, immediately followed by the auction. I wondered if she would do it. If she would risk being missed, if she felt the same buzz or adrenaline I felt. The sound of conversation built as I stepped out of the humid night and into the air conditioned museum. I climbed the wide staircase and wander down the hall into the empty, unlit ballroom. The voices dimmed as I pulled the door behind me, leaving it open just a sliver. I waited just inside for beat, listening to the muted sounds of the party as it continued downstairs and outside, and listened to make sure I was truly alone in the dark room. The occasional patron walked down the carpeted hall and inside the empty ballroom, making brief phone calls or looking for restaurant. It felt as if every sound I made a echoed out into the hallway, my shoes flopping on the wood floor and they took note of the layout. The room was longer than it was wide, in the city load through the windows on the long side of the room, the hum of traffic study on the streets below. Along the far, short wall was a rectangular table particularly hidden by an ordinance screen. The room was otherwise completely empty. I walked over and leaned against the table, behind the screen and even further out of sight as I waited.

Over fifteen minutes after I left her and after I'd almost given up on waiting any longer the slice of light through the door expanded and cut across the floor. I watched the shape of her body through the screen slice of white through the door expanded and cut across the floor. I watch the shape of her body through the screen, back let from the light of the hall. I knew that in the darkness, and remained invisible to her, and I took the opportunity to watch her as I scanned the room. I could imagine the Pulse and her throat hammering with nerves and excitement. Stepping out from behind the screen, I finally let her see me, a so what against the light of the city. She cross the room, eyes on mine has she slowly clothes the distance between us. Her expression was hard to make out in the den light, and I waited for her to speak, to tell me to go to hell or even ask me to fuck her again, but she said nothing. She paused with just inches between us, hesitating for only a moment before grabbing my jacket and pulling me to her. I imagine her downing a glass, hoping to find the courage to come up here in due exactly this. The thought made me moan, eyes fluttering closed as she opened her mouth to me her head tilted back as her tongue post against mine I palmed her breast with one hand, gripping her hip hard with the other.

"Take this off," she said, hands fumbling with my Tie, fingers tugging at my buttons. I walked backwards and unzipped her dress, watching it slip from her body to pool around her feet at the floor. She was completely naked then of her down.

"You've been like this the whole time?" I asked, taking one nipple into my mouth and looking up at her. She nodded, lips parted as she twisted her hands into my hair, with bring words like more and with teeth and please. I guided her down to the table, gripping her behind the knees to pull her toward the edge. My fingers trail down her ribs and over her flat stomach. I met her eyes, lifting a brown as I run my hands over the heels of her shoes.

"We'll leave those on, I reckon," I said.

Looking down at her otherwise naked body. She was perfect, creamy skin, spectacular breast, and taunt, pink nipples. Bending her over I lick the line down from her neck to her breast, pressing my thumb into her fading mark I apparently sucked into her skin on Saturday.

"I bet you looked at this every day. I said," admiring my handiwork, pressing just a bit harder

"Too much talking," she said, pushing open my shirt. "Too many clothes."

I grazed my teeth across her nipple, sucking, blowing across the hardened peak.

"Touch me," I said, pressing her palm over my breast. She squeezed in my head fell against her shoulder her hands shake as she unfastens my trousers, hurriedly shoving them down my hips. She leaned back on the table her body stretched, the shadows dipping into the hollow of her collarbone, the curve of her breast.

"Emma," she whispered, eyes hooded as she looked up at me.

"yeah?" I was distracted by her neck her breast her hand cupped between my legs.

"Do you have a camera?"

How did she do that? How did someone so contained, so naturally refined, let loose that completely? I reached into my jacket still hanging open from my shoulders and pulled out my phone, holding it up to her.

"Will this do?"

"Would you take pictures of us?"

I blink, and then blink hard again. She kidding?

"Fuck. Absolutely."

"No faces."

"Of course not."

A beat of silenced as we both passed us we both considered what I could do with this gadget in my palm. She wanted pictures of what we were doing. I reeled from the knowledge that she got off on this is much as I did. I could see it in the way her pulse beat wild in her throat, at the fever and her eyes.

"Nobody else sees them," she said.

I smiled. "I don't relish idea of sharing any part of you. Of course no one else sees them."

She leaned back and I brought the phone up, aiming at her. The first shot was over shoulder. The second of her hand on her breast, her nipple caught between her fingers. A soft moan left her lips as I smoothed my hand up her thigh to slip between her legs. Voices echoed in the hall, pushing us out of our dark corner and back into the reality of where we were, and how we both eventually needed to return downstairs. I reach pressing my thumb into her mouth, slipping two fingers it inside. She answered wordlessly, wrapping her legs around my hip trying to pull me closer just as the ballroom door creaked open. The brightness from the hall spilled into the room, filtering through the screen and painting her torso with its ribbon of light. Her breath caught but I didn't stop, instead lifted her chin and motioning for her to stay quiet as I kept the rhythm. She closed her eyes and I crapped her head to study myself, dressing and her harder, pulling her further down the table towards me the light from the city was just enough for me to capture essential, dark photo of my hands on her skin. Footsteps cross the room tour the window, in her legs tightened around me as up to keep me from pulling back and away. I walk her nipples hard in, her lips part and excitement. Don't worry, I thought with the smile. I'm not stopping. Still keeping the rhythm with my right hand, I Gripped her breast, pinching her nipple with my left.

"They're right there," I whispered, bending to kiss your neck and relishing the rhythm of her wild pulse under my lips.

"They can see us if they wanted." Her breath caught and I pinched again, rougher this time.

"I'm not pulling back."

"Harder," she bagged in a whisper.

I swore against the skin of her neck.

"You're fucking dirty you know that?"

Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as I inserted another finger, I felt her stomach tense against mine, her hips roll up with greater instance. But, she was warm and slick and if she didn't get there soon I was going to before her. Thankfully with the squeak she dug her nails painfully into my shoulder, her body tensing as she came apart around me. I felt light headed, euphoric, as if something inside was about to explode. The sound of footsteps returned, and then came to a quiet stop on the other side of the screen. I felt my orgasm build, white hot and enough to make me see stars. It went dark as I pushed one final time. And then silence, the collective moment when we struggled to container planting breaths, and nobody dared to move. I became vaguely aware of the sound of breathing just be on the screen, the stillness of someone waiting. Listening, I turn my head install Regina's wide eyes, her teeth buried into her bottom lip. A moment passed, and then another before the footsteps moved on, the light slipping along or sweaty body is just as the door closed.


	7. Chapter 6

**Hi Guys! I feel like it's been forever since my last update, and I'm so sorry for that. Life and adulating is a pain! Anyways I hope everyone had a great Christmas and New Year. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

Monday morning, I found Kathryn enter suddenly cluttered office, staring out the window. Her furniture and all of her boxes have finally arrived, and her pacing and mumbling told me that she was more than a little overwhelmed at the prospect of unpacking. I'd spent most of the weekend alternating between horror and celebration over what I done at the fundraiser, and had come into work to get my mind to stop looping through and looking too closely at what my actions said about me. I stayed until midnight on Saturday and, unfortunately, made my way through all of the contracts and invoices I needed to get done this week. Other than a handful of phone calls, I had nothing to do, and these days an idol Regina was not a good thing.

"Need help?" Kathryn laughed, plopping down on her couch. "I don't even know where to start. We just finished unpacking our apartment. Plus, I feel like I just packed all of this up."

"Start with your bookshelf. I never feel organized until I can see the neat rows of books all set up." Shrugging, she slid from the couch and crawl to where a few boxes were stacked against the wall.

"Did you have fun at MoMA?"

I opened the box of supplies and pulled out a box cutter.

"Definitely."

I could feel her look up at me, and her lingering attention pressed onto the side of my face I probably should have elaborated, but my mind turned completely blank when I struggled with what to say. What else happened? We arrived. Had some hors d'oeuvres. Emma and I danced, and then I asked her to take pictures while she fucked me on the table. By the time I remember the rest , the dinner we missed, the silent auction she's gone to attend, the beautiful garden I escaped to after hour... Encounter, too much time has already passed for me to add my one word answer.

" Good," she said, and I could hear the smirk in her voice.

" I'm glad you decided to come. Emma and August apparently host that every year and they raised a ton of money for charity. I think it's amazing."

"Amazing," I mumbled in agreement, remembering Emma in a tux.

Good sweet baby Jesus, the woman was born for black tie. She looked pretty amazing half naked, too. I looked out the window, remembered the throbbing heat of her breath on my neck. I found myself wondering about the pictures she taken and shivered slightly. I try not to imagine her looking at them. Maybe even touching herself while she did... Kathryn cleared her throat and pulled a few periodicals from her box. I blinked, hard, and look down at the journal in front of me.

"I saw you talking to Emma," she said. "You guys danced for, like, three songs, too. Did you just meet her that night?"

Was She a mind reader? _What in the actual hell, Kathryn?_ I didn't look up, and instead mumbled, "yeah, we just met at the… I waved my hand in the air… the thing on Friday."

"She's gorgeous," she said.

 _Poke. Poke._

I could feel her gaze on me. Kathryn was the least subtle poker in the world. She dropped a hint like a strike fighter drops bombs.

"Don't you think she's gorgeous?"

Finally I looked up at her and rolled my eyes.

" Knock it off. I'm not going to swoon for you over Emma Swan. She seems nice, that's all."

She laughed and shoved a few books on the shelf.

"Fine. Just making sure you weren't caught under her spell. She sounds like a great girl, but yeah, definitely a player. At least she's upfront about it, though."

She watched me for a minute as I struggled not to react to that. It was a fair dig on Robin, and was the kind of thing she could say in a year or two and we'd both laugh and say, I know, right? But for now her words just kind of dissolved into awkward silence.

"Sorry", she mumbled. "Bad timing. Did you know that Emma and David went to school together?"

"Yeah, she mentioned something about that. I didn't know that David went to college in England."

She nodded. "Cambridge. Emma was his flat mate from the first day there. He hasn't shared many stories with me, but the ones he has..."

She trailed off, shaking her head as her attention returned to the books in front of her. I was supposed to be uninterested, completely uninterested in all of this, right so I studied my thumb, and only then did I notice a fresh paper cut. _Get it together, Regina your brain is so fixated on Emma you no longer sense pain? That's pathetic._ How does one look when one absolutely does not care about the stories that Kathryn may have heard? I mean, obviously the fact that he hasn't shared many stories means that he's shared some. Right?

I alphabetized a giant stack of periodicals, pretending to be engrossed. Finally, the question Felt like it was choking me and I relented.

"Like, what kinds of things did they do?"

"Rugby. Brewing their own beer in the insane parties after. Taking the trains to Paris and blah-blah escapades."

I wanted to strangle her.

"Escapades?"

She stood up suddenly, as if she remembered something, and her dark eyes definitely had a mischivious shine into them.

"Hey, this reminds me. Speaking of escapades..."

My stomach fell to my knees.

"you disappeared on Friday night, for like an hour! Where did you go?"

My face heated, heated, and I cleared my throat, borrowing my brown as if I had to work to remember.

"Oh, I just felt a little overwhelmed. I, uh, went for a walk around the ground."

"Damn," she breathed. "I was hoping you ran into a hot caterer and fucked on a table."

A hoarse cough burst out, and my entire throat was so dry that I couldn't stop coughing. Kathryn stood and got me a cup of water from the cooler in the reception area, returning with a knowing grin.

"You are so busted. You always start coughing when you're freaking out."

"I'm fine."

"Lies. Lying liar that lies all the lies. Tell me."

I absolutely refuse to look at her. Something about Kathryn's piercing blue eyes and patient smile directed right at me made me spill everything.

"There is nothing to tell."

"Regina, you disappeared, you came back after being gone for an hour and looked..." She tucked a long lock of blonde hair behind her ear to reveal a devilish smile. "You know how you looked. Freshly fucked." I cut a box open and pulled out a stack design magazines, handing them to her.

"And it's too crazy to explain."

" Are you kidding me? You're talking to the woman who had sex with her boss in the eighteenth floor stairwell."

My head shot all up and a laugh burst out. I drink some more water to keep the cough at bay.

"Holy crap, Kathryn. I didn't need to know that detail." I consider this a little more. "Good, good thing I never use the stairs. Gross. That would have been super awkward."

"We were ridiculous. Nothing could be crazier than that." She shrugged and turned her non-judgmental face on me.

"Or, there could be? You tell me."

"Okay," I said, leaning back against the couch.

"The girl I met was at the bar last week?"

"The hot one?"

"Yeah?"

"She was there on Friday."

Her eyes narrowed, and I could see her gears cranking. "At the fundraiser?"

"Yeah. He found the outside of the restroom," I lied and looked out the window so she couldn't see it in my eyes.

"We hooked up. I guess that's why I looked... er, rumpled."

"When you say hooked up you mean..?"

"Yeah. In an empty ballroom." I looked up and met her eyes. "On a table."

She let out a loud whoop and clapped her hands. "Look at you, you wild thing."

It was so like something Emma would say to me, but delivered so differently, that for a moment it rendered me speechless. It was disorienting to ache for her like this, so I wonder what she was doing, and whether she was presently looking at pictures of me spread out beneath her.

"Seriously, Regina I knew you had it in you," she added.

"The thing is, I don't really want another relationship. And even if I did, I get the impression she isn't really like that." I stopped before spending too much.

If I alluded anymore to Emma's reputation on page six, Kathryn would absolutely know who I meant. She hummed, listening, as she sorted through the stack of journals.

"But she's fun, Kathryn. And you know how things were with Robin."

She's stop sorting, but toyed with the corner of a page. "Well, that's the thing, Gina. I don't really. I mean, come on, in the three years you and I have known each other, I only had dinner with you guys maybe five times. I learned more about him from the papers than I did from any stories you told me. You hardly ever talk about him! I always just end it up with the sense that he was using your family is reputation to appear well connected and... Wholesome."

I felt guilt in embarrassment settle in my chest like a lead weight.

"I know," I said, inhaling and letting it out again slowly. It was one thing to imagine how people saw me, another to hear it straight out. "I always worried that if I said anything about him to someone, it wouldn't be misconstrued, and somehow break his public strategy. Plus, we weren't like you and David. We didn't have a lot of fun together by the time I met you. Robin was a phony and an epic jerk and it took me a really long time to see that. This thing on Friday was just fun."

Kathryn looked up. "Hey, it's fine. I knew it was something like that." She turned back to another box. "So this is good then, she's not like Robin."

"Yeah."

"So you mean she's into you."

"At least physically, which is fine for me right now."

"So what's the problem? It sounds like the perfect situation."

"She's kind of intense. And I don't really trust her."

Putting down the books in her hand, she turn to me. "Regina, this is going to sound really weird, but hear me out ok? Of course. When David and I started... Whatever it was we were doing, I was determined that every time it happened it would be the last. But I think I always knew it would keep happening until it had run its course. Luckily for us, I don't think we'll ever stop feeling what we felt those first few times. Even so, I didn't trust him. Above all of it, he was my boss. I mean, hello, inappropriate."

She laughed, and only thing she unpacked was a picture of the two of them at the house in France where he'd proposed to her. "But I think if I'd just given myself permission to enjoy it a little bit, it might not have consumed me so much."

I was starting to know exactly what she meant about being consumed. And I knew, too, that I was consciously fighting it with Emma, with the idea of Emma. But my reasons were different. It wasn't a boss employee thing, or any other kind of power struggle. It was the simple fact that I didn't want to be anyone else's but my own for a while. And although the thing with Emma was insane it was completely different from anything I've ever felt before, It was different, I liked it. A lot.

"I do like her," I admitted carefully. "But I don't think she's girlfriend material. In fact, I know she's not. And I am most definitely not girlfriend material right now."

"Okay, so maybe you just get together every now and then as fuck buddies."

I laughed, pressing my face into my hands. "Seriously. Whose life is this?"

She looked at me like she wanted to Pat my head.

" Regina, it's yours."

Jefferson was reading a newspaper in my office with his feet up on my desk when I returned.

"working yourself to the bone?" I teased, sitting on the corner of my desk on my lunch break.

"And you had a package arrive, Boss lady."

"You found it in the mail room?"

He shook his head and lifted the parcel on his lap, waving at me. "Hand delivered. By a very cute bike messenger, I might add. I had to sign for it and promise not to open it."

I snatched it from him and jerked my chin to the door, wordlessly telling Jefferson to scram.

"You're not even going to tell me what it is?"

"I don't have x-ray vision, and you're not going to be here when I open it. Get out."

With a noise of protest, he kicked his feet off my desk and left, closing my door on his way out. I stared out the package for several minutes, feeling the rectangular shape of it beneath the padded envelope. A frame? My heart jumped in my chest.

Tucked inside or a wrapped parcel and a note that read,

 _Estrella,_

 _open this with discretion. It's my favorite._

 _You're stranger_.

I swallowed, feeling a little as if I were on the verge of unleashing something I would no longer be able to contain. Looking up to ensure that my door was firmly shut, I unwrapped it, my hands shaking when I realized that it was indeed a frame. Made of deep, simply cut wood, it held a single photo, a picture of my stomach, in the curve of my waist. The Black Table beneath me was visible. Emma fingertips were also visible at the bottom, as if she was penning me to the surface at my hips. A faint beam of light spread across my skin, a reminder of the door opening nearby, of the person wandering around the room just beyond the screen.

I closed my eyes, remembering how it felt when I came. I was like a bare wire, plugged into the wall and with the charge that would illuminate that dark ballroom running through me instead. She'd bared my clit with her fingers, stroke to me just like that. I'd wanted to close my legs against the intensity of it but she'd growled, held me open with her pounding hips. I shove the frame back into the mailing envelope and hid the entire thing in my purse. Heat spread like a line across my skin and I couldn't even turn up the air, couldn't open a window of the sky and the building.

 _How did she know?_

I felt the weight of it pressing down on me, how much I wanted it to be a photo of us, how much I wanted to be seen. She understood, maybe more than I did myself. Stumbling to my desk, sat down and tried to take stock of the situation. But directly in front of me was today's New York Post, open to page six. There smack in the middle of page six, was a story titled, _sex god Swan go solo_.

 **Emma Swan millionaire venture capitalist tried something a little new Saturday night at MoMA. No, it wasn't looking at art, and it most certainly wasn't raising money let's be honest, the woman already raises money better than every slot machine in Vegas. Saturday night at her annual fundraiser to benefit Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation, Emma Swan arrived... Alone.**

 **When asked where her date was she simply said, I'm hoping she's already inside. Unfortunately for us, photographers were forbidden from the event. Will get you next time, Swan**.

I stare down at the paper, knowing Jefferson had put it there for me to see it was probably now laughing to himself. My hands shake as I folded and shoved it in the drawer. Why hadn't it occurred to me that a photographer could have been there? That there were no photographers in the event at all was a miracle. And although Emma had certainly known this, I hadn't, and I hadn't thought to care.

"Crap," I whispered.

I knew, with sudden clarity, that does thing between us either needed to end absolutely, or I needed some semblance of control. Feeling relieved in hindsight was a slippery slope, and I'd already dogged three bullets in my first week. I hit the spacebar on my laptop to wake up my computer and Google the location of Swan & summer. For such a well-known venture capital firm, I was surprised how little space it required. Then again, it took very little to run a company that basically just raised and invested money: Emma, August, some junior executives and assorted math brainiacs.

My heart was hammering so fast I had to count to ten deep breath, and then duck into a bathroom just outside of their office doors to get myself together. I checked each stall to ensure it was empty and then looked at myself right in the eye. "If you're doing this with him, remember three things, Regina. One, she wants what you want. Sex, no strings. You don't owe her more. Two, don't be afraid to ask for what you want. And three"- I stood up straighter, taking a deep breath, - "be young. Have fun. Turn the rest off."

Back in the hall, the glass doors to Swan & summer opened automatically when I approached and an older female receptionist greeted me with a genuine smile. I'm here to see Emma Swan, I said returning it. She had a familiar smile, familiar brown. I glanced down and read her placard: BRIGID SWAN.

Holy crap, did his mother work here as a receptionist?

"Do you have an appointment, love?" Her accent was just like hers.

I direct my attention back to her face.

"No, actually. I was hoping I could just get a minute."

"What's your name?"

"Regina mills." She smiled, but not a knowing smile, thank God, looked at her computer and then nodded a little to herself before picking up the phone.

"I've got a Regina Mills here hoping for a chat." She listens for barely three seconds and then said, "right."

When she hung up, she was already nodding. "Straight down the hall to the right. Hers is the office at the end."

I thank her and followed her directions down the hall when I grew closer, I saw that Emma stood in her doorway, leaning against the frame and wearing such a self-satisfied smile that I pulled up for good ten feet short of my destination.

"Get over yourself," I whispered.

She burst out laughing, turning and walking into her office. I followed her and, closing the door behind me.

"I'm not here for what you think I'm here for." And then I paused, reconsidering.

"Okay maybe I am here for what you think I'm here for. But not really. I mean not here, and not today here, when your mother is right out there! Oh my god who hires their mother as a receptionist?"

The blonde was still laughing, that damn dimple edged into her cheek, and with each rambling words I unleashed she seem to laugh harder. God damn if she wasn't the most playful, adorable... Infuriating... Ass!

"Stop laughing!" I yelled then slapped a hand over my mouth as the words echoed back to me from the walls around then she struggled to straighten her expression, walked over to me and kiss me once, so sweetly is literally forgot for a beat what I was here for.

"Regina," she said quietly. "You look beautiful."

"You always say that," I said.

I close my eyes, felt my shoulders slump. I couldn't remember a single instance in the last three years where Robin had complimented me on something other than the one I chose for dinner.

"That's because I'm nothing if not honest. But what are you wearing?"

I open my eyes and look down at my white blouse, pleated navy skirt, and the thick red belts. Emma was staring directly at my chest, and I felt my nipples harden under her game. She grinned. She could tell.

"I'm wearing... Work stuff."

"You look like a naughty schoolgirl done right."

"I'm twenty seven," I reminded her.

" You're not being a pervert by checking out my boobs."

"twenty seven." She repeated, grinning.

She acted like every bit of information I gave her was a pearl she could string on a necklace.

"How many days is that?"

I narrowed my eyes at her.

"What? It's..." I looked up for a few seconds." About nine thousand, eight hundred fifty." The blonde groaned and pressed a dramatic hand into her chest.

"Fuck. Numbers queen and stacked like that. I'm helpless against your charm."

I couldn't help but smile back at her. She'd never been rude or sharp with me, and has given me more orgasms in a week and a half than any other man or woman had in... _ugh, Regina. Depressing. Move on._

She looked me over once more before saying, "well, I certainly can't wait for you to tell me why you bless me with your visit today. But let me answer your more recent questions. Yes my mother is my receptionist and it does seem uncouth. But I dare you even to try to get her to leave... I assure you, you'll walk away with one ear pulled from your head." She took a step forward, and suddenly she was standing so close. Too close. I could see the tiny stripes and her tailored suit jacket.

"I came here to talk to you," I said.

I must have sounded minuscule, and I needed to find some power to put behind the words I wanted to give her. I didn't want to be how I was with Robin and initially: easily bulldozed. After six years, I realize the problem was I never really cared enough to fight for anything. She smiles.

"I figured as much. Do you want to sit?" I shook my head.

"Do you want something to drink?" She walked over to a small bar in the corner and held up a crystal bottle filled with Amber liquid. Without thinking, I nodded, and she poured two glasses.

Handing it to me, she whispered, "just two fingers today, Estrella."

I surrendered to my laugh. "Thank you. I'm sorry this whole situation is just ... Eating at me." She raised an eyebrow but seem to rethink lacing further innuendo into the moment.

"Likewise. "

"I feel a little out of my depth with you," I started.

She laughed, but not rudely.

"I can tell."

"See, before what happens in the club? I've been with the same guy since I was twenty one."

Emma took a sip of her drink and then stared down into the glass, listening. I considered how much I really wanted to tell him about Robin, and me, and who we were together.

"Robin was older. More established more settled. It was fine," I said. "It was always fine. I think a lot of relationships end up this way, just sort of... fine. Easy. Whatever. He wasn't my best friend, you wasn't really my lover. We cohabitated. We had a routine. I was loyal, he banged women all over New York."

"So what happened? Detonated?"

I paused, looking at her. Had I used that word with Emma? I thought back, and realized no, I hadn't. I'd use that to describe my life when I left, but I never shared it with her. I felt goose bumps spread along my arms. A million answers flash through my head, but the one "I gave her was I got tired of being so old when I was so young."

"That's it? That's all you're going to tell me? You are a complete puzzle, Regina."

Looking up at her, I said, "for what we've done together, you don't need to know more than that I left a lot of unhappiness in New York and I'm not looking to be involved with anyone."

"But then you found me at the club," she said.

"If I remember correctly," I said, dragging my finger down the front of her shirt, "you found me."

"Right," she said, and smiled, but for the first time I could remember, her eyes didn't do it first. Or even later. "And here we are."

"Here we are," I agreed. "I figured it was one wild moment." I looked out the window, at the billowing White Cloud, looking for all the world so solid, and Hearty as if I could leap from the floor and catch one and go somewhere, anywhere where would I feel sure of what I was about to say.

"But I seen you a few times since then and... I like you. I just don't want things to get crazy, or off track."

"I understand you perfectly."

Did she? She couldn't possibly. And in truth, it didn't matter whether she understood that even more important then my life staying on track was my need for it not to be safe as it has been in New York. Safe was a nightmare. It was a lie.

"One night a week, I said I'll be yours one night a week."

She stared at me with that calm reflective expression and I realize that every time I had seen her before this, she's been showing every card she had. Her smile is complete honesty. Her laughter was her being perfectly real. But this expression was her mask. My stomach tighten painfully.

"If you even want to see me again, that is."

"I absolutely do," she assured me. "I'm just not entirely sure what you're saying."

I stood up and walked over to the window. I saw her move behind me and I said, "I feel like the only way I can handle it right now is to give it a clear boundary. Outside that boundary, I'm here to work to build a life. But inside that boundary..."

I trailed off I'm closing my eyes and letting the ideas take hold. The idea of Emma hands, and her mouth. Her tone abdomen pressing into me again.

"We can do anything. When I'm with you I don't want to worry about anything else."

She moved to the side, so that I could turn my head just slightly and look at her and stared directly into my eyes. She smiled. The mask was gone, the mid afternoon Sun blaze into the room, and her eyes look like Green caught on fire.

"You're offering only your body to me."

"Yeah." I was the first to look away.

"You truly only give me one night a week?"

I winced. "Yes."

"So you want to have... What? Some sort of committed fling?"

I laughed and said, "I certainly don't like the idea of you whoring your way across Chicago. So, yes that's part of the deal. If you even do that."

She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, not answering my implied question.

" What night? The same night all the time?"

I hadn't really thought this part through, but I nodded, winging it. "Fridays."

"If I'm not to see other women, what if I have a work function, or an event on Thursday or a Saturday that requires a date?"

My chest twisted with anxiety. "No public appearances. I guess you can take your mom."

"you're a demanding little thing." Her smile followed her words and grew slowly, like a low burning fire.

"This feels so organized. That hasn't been our modus operandi, to date, little Estrella."

"I know," I allowed. "But this is the only way that felt the same to me. I don't want to be in the papers with you."

Her eyebrows pulled together.

" Why that specifically?"

Shaking my head, I realized I had said too much. I murmured, "I just don't."

"Do I get any say and how this goes," she asked. "Do we just meet at your flat and fuck all night?"

I ran my index finger down her chest again venturing lower, to her belt buckle. Here with the part I hoped she was up for and the part that scared me the most. After the club, the restaurant, the fundraiser, I was starting to feel like an adrenaline junkie. I didn't want to give that up, either.

"I think we've done pretty well so far. I don't want to go to my apartment. Or yours, for that matter. Text me where I should be, and generally what to expect so I know what to wear. I don't care about the rest." I lifted myself on my toes. Kissed her. It started out teasing but then turned deep enough to make me want to take back everything I said and give myself to her every night of the week. But she pulled away first, breathing heavily.

"I can avoid photographers, but I've become obsessed with taking pictures of you. That's my only condition. No faces, but photos are allowed."

A shiver moved up my spine and I stared up at her. The thought of having proof of her touching my bare skin, of her looking at pictures of us together and getting wet, made a hot flush spread up my chest into my cheeks. She noticed, smiling and running the back of her fingers along my jaw.

"When this ends, you delete them," I said.

She nodded immediately. "Of course. I'll see you Friday then."

I reached inside her jacket; pull her phone from her inside pocket and dialing my cell number it rang in my purse. I could sense her amused smile without even looking up at her face. I slipped her phone back into her pocket, turned, and walked away, knowing that if I looked over my shoulder at her I walk back. I wave goodbye to her mother and took the long elevator ride back to the lobby, thinking about that cell camera of hers on the way down. Two blocks away my phone buzzed in my purse.

 **meet me Friday at 119th and Halsted. 6 p.m. Have a cab bring you and stay in it until I open the door. You may come straight from work.**

 **Thank you all for reading, and I hope you liked it… For anyone who is wondering Estrella is Spanish for star. Emma called Regina Estrella when they first met at the bar before they exchanged names, There is a story behind it, but it will probably be told later about why he chose to call Regina Estrella. Also I know I refer to Brigid Swan as Emma's mother, there's more to that as well. I just feel like Emma and Regina are not close enough emotionally to have the foster care talk yet, but soon.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hi everyone! I started this fic for my friend Jen and it's crazy how many people are actually reading it, so thank you all so much! Oh and this chapter is literally ALL smut, so NSFW… Rhona, consider this as a reward for reading LFW. Love you guys!**

Back when I was young and naive, Robert Gold had been the second client I ever took on. He'd had a small business profitable antique business in North London. On paper Gold's business was nothing special; he paid his bills on time, had a steady client list, and made more money a year than what he put out on expenditures. But what was truly exceptional about Gold was his uncanny ability to sniff out rare finds that few people knew existed. Pieces that, in the right hands, so for small fortunes to collectors around the globe.

He needed capital to expand and, I later learned, to bankroll a long list of informants who kept him appraised of what was to be found and where. Informants who made him a very, very rich man. Legally, of course. In fact, Robert Gold had become so successful he currently owns twelve warehouses in Chicago alone, the largest of which stood at 119th and Halstead.

Pulling the paper from my pocket, I entered the code Gold had given me on the phone this morning. The alarm beep twice before the door buzzed, the lock disengaging with a loud metallic click. With a quick way to my driver, I open the heavy steel door, hearing my car pull away from the curb as I stepped inside.

A freight elevator took me up to the fifth floor and I slipped off my jacket. Rolling up my sleeves as I looked around. Clean, cement walls and floors, bay lighting suspended from a band ceiling. Gold used these buildings to have collections that would later be sold at auction or move to various dealers. Thank fuck this collection had yet to sell.

Sunlight still poor through the dingy and cracked windows that line two walls of the warehouse, and row after row of draped mirrors filled the space. Across the room, stirring up small plums of dust with my footsteps, and lifted the plastic covering from the only piece of furniture in the entire warehouse, A red velvet chase I'd had delivered earlier that day. I smiled, running my hands along the curved back, and imagining how gorgeous Regina will look later, naked and begging on top of it.

 _Perfect._

I spent the next hour carefully uncovering each of the mirrors in arranging them around the space, angling each one towards the chase I placed in the center. Some were ornate, with wide gilded frames and glass that had become speckled and hazy around the edges with time. Others were more delicate, simple filigree or rich, gleaming wood.

The Sun had ducked behind the surrounding buildings by the time I had finished, but still shown bright enough that I wouldn't need to turn on any of the fluorescent lamps overhead. Soft light flittered through the warped glass and I checked my watch, noting that Regina would be here any moment.

For the first time since I devised this little plan, I consider the possibility that she might not show up at all, and how disappointing that would be. Which was strange. Most women were easy to read, wanting me for my money or the notoriety that came with being seen on my arm. But not Regina. I'd never had to work even remotely this hard to get a woman's attention before, and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that. Was I honestly that much of a cliché? Only wanting what I couldn't have? I pacified myself with the fact that we were both adults, we were both getting what we wanted, and would each move on soon enough. No harm done.

Simple.

The fact that she was a stellar shag didn't hurt , either. My cell vibrated from across the room, and with a final glance around, I let myself into the left and traveled the short ride down to the empty lobby. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door, and wetness pooled at my thighs at the sight of her standing there expectant, unsure.

 _Easy,Swan. Let her get inside before we ravage her_.

"Hello," I said, bending to kiss her cheek. "You look beautiful."

Her scent was already familiar, a little something like cinnamon and apples. I stepped outside and paid the driver, turning back to her as he drove away.

"That was pretty presumptuous of you," she said, lifting a brow.

Her hair was smooth with just the slightest bit of a wave and it tonight. I imagined what it would look like later, tangled and wild after I fucked her.

"Especially since I already paid him."

I looked back in the direction of the cap before shaking my head with a smile. "Let's just say that lack of confidence has never been my hang-up."

"What's your hang up then?" She asked.

"I don't think I have one, actually. I think that's why you like me."

"Like is a pretty strong word," she said, the corner of her mouth curving up into a smirk.

"Touché, devil child." I grinned as I open the door, indicating that she lead the way.

We were silent as we walked to the elevator and throughout the short ride up, but a new, heavy sense of anticipation seem to pulse all around us. The lift opened directly to the warehouse, but instead of moving inside, Regina turned to face me.

"Before we go in there," she said, nodding toward the room, "I need you to tell me that there are no chains or, like implements inside."

I laughed, only now seeing how bad this looked, how much trust she was placing in me by coming here. I promised myself I'd make it worth it.

"No shackles or whips, I promise." I leaned down, kissed her ear. "There may be a little light spanking, but let's see how the night goes first, shall we?"

I swatted her on the behind before I walked past her to lead us inside.

"Wow," she said, a hint of color still blooming across her cheeks as she crossed the threshold.

 _So many contradictions_.

I let myself watch as she took in the room, turning slowly. Burgundy wrap dress, legs that went on for miles and ended in sky high black heels.

"Wow," she repeated.

"I'm glad you approve."

She ran a finger along the surface of a large silver mirror, her eyes meeting mine in the reflection.

"I'm sensing a theme here."

"If by theme you mean that watching you gets me off, then yes."

I sat in one of the large window frames, stretching my legs out in front of me.

"I love watching you come. But, even more, I love the way you get off on being watched."

Her eyes widened as if what I said was somehow shocking. I paused. And I misread her? To me she was pretty clearly at least a little exhibitionist, and more than a lot fascinated with the thrill of being seen.

"You know I enjoy looking at nude photos of you. I know you enjoy public sex. Where have I misunderstood what we're doing here?"

"It's just hearing it out loud that surprise me."

Turning away, she walked around the room looking at each mirror she passed.

"I guess I always assumed other people like this kind of thing, not me. I realize that sounds ridiculous."

"Just because what you had before was different doesn't mean it's what you like."

"I don't think I fully understand what I like," she said, turning to face me. "At least, I don't feel like I've done enough in my life to really know."

"Well, here you are in a warehouse, with nothing but a velvet chase in the middle of a room and mirrors all around. I'm happy to help you try to figure that out."

She laughed, walking back over to me. "This building isn't yours."

"More checking up on me, I see."

She set her bag against the wall and took a seat on the chase, crossing her legs.

"I needed to know something outside of a gossip columns. Make sure we wouldn't be recreated a scene from leather face."

I shook my head, laughing, surprised at how relieved I was she hadn't just shown up blindly.

"It belongs to a client of mine."

"A client with a fetish for mirrors?"

"I don't know how much you found in your digging," I said. "But I have two partners and each have their own area of expertise. I focus more on the arts: galleries and—"

"Antiques?" She said, motioning around the room.

"Yes."

"Which brings us to why we're here," she said.

"Done with the twenty questions?"

"For now."

"Satisfied?"

"hmmm, not yet."

I cross the room bending to kneel in front of her.

"You're okay with this?"

"With you taking me in a warehouse full of mirrors?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged, in a wildly innocent gesture. "Surprisingly, yes."

I moved my hand to the back of her neck.

"I've been thinking about this all day. How you look sitting here."

Her skin looks so soft and I let my fingers trail down along her throat, along her collarbone. I pressed a kiss over her pulse feeling the beat of it against my tongue. She whispered my name, her legs falling open as she brought me closer.

"I want you naked," I said, wasting no time in pulling down the front of her dress. "I want you naked and wet and begging for me to fuck you. I moved to her breast, sucking before I bit down on her nipple through the delicate lace of her bra. "I want you to be so loud that the people at the bus stop across the street know my name."

She gasped and reached for my tie, loosening it and pulling it from around my neck.

"I could bind you with that," I said. "Spank you. Suck on your pussy until you beg me to stop."

I watched as she fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, the hungry look in her eyes as she pushed it down my shoulders.

"Or I could gag you," she teased with a smirk.

"Promises, promises," I whispered, taking her bottom lip into my mouth.

I kissed down her chin, sucked on her neck. She went to palm my trousers, her eyes widen.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Oh, that a problem?" I asked.

She shook her head as she bit her bottom lip. I unfastened and her dress and pushed it open, pulling her arms free and tossing it to the side. Her bra followed closely behind.

"Tell me what you want, Regina." She hesitated, watching me, before whispering,

"Touch me."

"Where?" I asked, and I trailed a finger up her thigh.

"Here?"

Her skin popped against the red velvet of the chase, the image better than any I'd conjured up on my own, and I nibbled her hip bone as I slipped the tiny scrap of lace she wore down her legs. Dipping a finger inside, I sucked into sharp breath at how wet she already was. I circled my thumb over her clit, both of us looking down to where I touched her. I watch the muscles of her stomach quiver, heard the soft sounds as I moved over her wet skin.

Standing, unfastened my trousers, pushing my clothes down my hips. She didn't waste any time, sitting up and taking the silicone cock in her hand, running her tongue along the head of it. I watched as she sucked on the tip, wishing there was some type of magic that would allow me to feel her lips warm and wet. Glancing up, I caught a reflection across the room. She held onto my hips, her pretty caramel colored hair twisted around my fingers, her head bobbing as she moved over me. I force myself not to look down, knowing that her long, dark lashes would look like from this angle, resting against her pink cheeks. Or better, her dark eyes open as she looked up. I felt a twinge some pain as her fingernails tugged into my hip, felt the soft brush her hair against his stomach, the pressure on my own Clit as the base of the dildo rocked into me as she went up and down. It felt so fucking good. Too good. I pulled her face away, pulling her back up towards me. I ran my fingers along her lips. It was so tempting to just watch her suck, but I have other plans.

"Turn around. I want you on your knees." She did as I asked, glancing over her shoulder at me as I stood behind her.

That look nearly did me in. I gripped her hip, taking one hand in guiding into her entrance, rubbing the tip against her before pressing down and pushing inside. Her head fell forward, hiding her face from my view. That wouldn't do it all.

I reached out, wrapping my hands in her hair, and pulled, bringing her head back up. Her breath caught, eyes wide and surprised and hunger.

"There you are," I said, drawing back slightly and shifting forward. "Right there." I nodded to the mirror opposite of. "I want you to look right there, yeah?" She licked her lips, nodding as best she could.

"Do you like that?" I asked, tightening my hold.

She stuttered out a "yes-s."

I moved faster, watching her with something like awe. It was clear she wasn't letting me leave tonight, take what I wanted. The gears spun in my head, already trying to sort out how I can draw her out, how I can make her as tangled with need as I felt when I was close to her.

"See how much better it makes that?" I asked, following her every movement in the mirror as I continue to push in and out of her tight body.

"See how perfect that is?" I circled my hips, sped up my movements. "And over there." I tilted her head to the right, to another mirror angle toward us.

"Fuck look at the way your tits move as a fuck you. The curve of your back. You're fucking perfect ass."

I brought my hands from her hair to her shoulders, grouping them, using them for leverage. I squeeze the muscle there, my thumb bracketing the curve of her spine. Her skin with slick with sweat, her hair beginning to claim to her forehead. I bent my knees to change the angle and she arched under my palms, her body rocking against mine. She shifted her weight to her elbows and cried out, asking for it harder, her fingers twisting into the fabric of the chase. I gripped her hips in each hand, fucking into her, pulling her back roughly with every thrust Emma, she moaned, her cheek turned into the cushion. She looked so wrecked, so overwhelmed and lost to everything but the feeling of my body and how it fit with her.

My legs were starting to burn in pressure buzzed up and down my spine. Pleasure begins to build in my stomach and I bent forward, wrapping my arms around her waist to shift our position. She reached back with one hand holding my hips pulling me in so hurt.

"That's it," I said through panting breaths, closer and closer.

"Can you get there?"

"So close," she said, eyelids flutter closed, teeth buried in her bottom lip. I reached forward to touch her clit finding her own like fingers already there. The chase Creek Beneath us and I briefly considered the possibility that it might collapse.

"Emma, faster."

I looked around again, seeing us in different mirrors in from different angles, both of our fingers moving over her while we moved oh, and I knew I'd never seen anything even remotely like this. I knew this was a game, but fuck if I ever wanted to stop playing. I shifted my eyes back to her she said my name over and over, her head thrown back against my shoulder as she came, her body squeezing tight. Everything's all hot and Electric my heart pounded inside my chest.

"Don't close your eyes, don't you fucking close your eyes."

"I'm about to come."

I followed, my body shaking as I came. I fell forward, and clutching at her waist and fingers tightening their, feeling the hot flush of blood pumps are my veins.

"Holy...," she breathed, looking back at me with a small smile.

" Indeed." I managed to pull myself up, and arrange us both on the settee. Regina was pliant, boneless, and smiled sleepily as she laid back on the cushion with a small sigh.

"I'm not sure I can walk," she said, reaching up to push the sweaty hair from her forehead.

"You're welcome."

She blinked over to me. "Always so cocky."

I grinned, closing my eyes while I tried to catch my breath. At least until I could feel my legs again. Several moments of silence stretched on. Car horns blared on the streets below, a helicopter sounded somewhere in the distance. The room had grown darker when I felt the cushion shift, and I looked up, seeing Regina stand and began gathering her clothes.

"What plans do you have for the rest of the evening?" I asked, rolling to my side and watching her slip back on her dress.

"Going home."

"We both got to eat." I stretched out, running my hands along her smooth thigh. "Certainly worked up an appetite."

She gently brushed me away, kneeling on the floor to find her other shoe. I didn't even remember taking them off.

"That's not what this is."

I frowned. I suppose I should have felt some sort of relief knowing that she wasn't moving this to needlessly an emotional territory. But she was such a mystery to me. Obviously an experienced, obviously naive. But she did come here, quite recklessly in fact, and was putting her trust in me.

 _Why?_

 _Everyone plays the game. What's hers?_

She slipped into her shoes, straightened, pulled a brush from her purse the smooth through her hair. Her eyes were bright, her face a bit more flush than usual, but other than that Regina look perfectly presentable.

I'd have to try harder next time

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it! Those who left reviews thank you, and keep them coming!**


	9. Chapter 8

Maybe this is how Robin got so much done every single day. Nothing clearing the head better than a screaming orgasm with a gorgeous stranger you didn't expect me to go pick up her dry cleaning after work. Monday morning, I left energized and completely engaged in the nine o'clock department meeting. The other executives and their assistants had finally arrived to the new office, and because some things David has been working on came through, we were inundated with the prospect of twenty new marketing plans. I was buried. On the upside, I had very little time to fantasize about Robin shaped voodoo dolls and castration techniques.

But in between the frenzy, walking from one meeting to the next, a trip to the restroom, quiet lull after a phone call, I remembered my night with Emma, her naked body behind me, my limbs having with Delicious exhaustion and her hands fisted in my hair.

" _Don't close your eyes, don't you fucking close your eyes. I'm about to come."_

Despite how much fun had been, I felt off for a couple of hours on Saturday morning. Not regretting anything, exactly, but slightly embarrassed that I'd actually done it. It occurred to me that I was giving Emma a very bad impression, showing up in some random neighborhood and willing to let her do what she wanted to me in front of hundreds of mirrors where it was very likely no one would be able to hear me if I needed help. The thing was, even below that thin layer of mortification, I knew I'd never felt more alive. She made me feel safe, as strange as that was, and like I can ask her for anything. Like she saw something in me nobody else did. She didn't seem even the slightest bit surprised or judgmental when I laid out my terms in her office. Didn't even blink when I told her we wouldn't be having sex in any bed.

I sat back at my desk in my office, closing my eyes as a memory returned from the last time Robin and I had sex, more than four months ago. We'd stopped bothering to argue over his schedule, or mine. Instead, the lack of intimacy in a relationship felt like a dark shadow growing to cover the room. I tried to spice things up, showing up at his office late one night and nothing but a long coat and heels. But I'd have been better off showing up wearing a yellow duck suit, for how embarrassed he was to see me. "I can't have sex with you here," he hissed, looking over my shoulder.

Maybe he said that because he could only have sex with other women in the office. I've been humiliated. Without saying anything, they turned and left. Later that night, he came home and made some effort, waking me up, kissing me, trying to take his time and make it good. It hadn't been.

M y eyes blinked open, as the reality of everything scene the hit me and this one, totally random moment. Emma made me feel so good, and Robin had only ever made me feel miserable. It was time for me to woman up, and stop apologizing for taking whatever the hell I wanted.

Although I still crave her uncomfortably much, knowing that I would hear from Emma eventually let me shut off wondering how or when it would happen for most of the week. But when lunch rolled around on Friday, and she still hadn't contacted me, and occurred to me that if Emma wanted things to end she might just decide not to text me. We had no rules for how to let this go, or how to back away gracefully. In reality, the way I set it up meant that the most graceful way to back out would be to simply disappear. There was something comforting about an arrangement that was so tenuous it could just evaporate.

Still, I wanted to see her again. I put my phone in my desk drawer, determined to not take it with me to the afternoon team meeting. But ten minutes into discussions about a lingerie marketing campaign, and with the memory Emma flipping my skimpy lace panties down my legs still playing on a loop inside my head, I found an excuse to get up and go back to my office to retrieve it.

No message. Damn.

Returning to the conference room, I found David flipping through slides at lightning speed. It was okay for me because I seen the deck before hand, but I could tell the newly arrived you near executives wanted to throw up their lunches.

"Slow down, David," I came up and said to him quietly.

He snapped his attention to me, his temper barely tied down. "What?"

I swallowed. Colleagues or not, he still scared the hell out of me. "I think you click through the marketing segmentation too fast," I explained. "You just finished it yesterday, when those guys were on a plane. Let them digest it."

He nodded tightly and looked back to the screen. I could almost feel in counting to ten in his head as he let them read the slide, and I looked across the table and Kathryn. She was watching him, biting down on her pen to keep from laughing. I doubted David had any sympathy for the employees who had just uprooted their entire lives and were expected to have memorized seventeen tables of market figures in twenty four hours.

"Good?" He asked, click into the next line without waiting for an answer.

 _Catch up or catch the next train._ That's what I overheard David telling a new marketing associate named chip. My phone vibrated loudly on the table and I picked it up, apologizing under my breath for the interruption. Thank the universe for David Nolan and his endlessly entertaining, impatient perfectionism for two whole minutes I forgot to wonder if Emma with still interested in meeting.

 **The Chicago Public library has some fascinating volumes. 6:30. Wear a skirt, the tallest heels skip the pants**.

I grinned down at my phone, thinking Emma was pretty lucky that all I would need to do was remove my panties before meeting her. When I looked up, Kathryn still had her pen between your teeth but this time she was watching me, eyebrows raised. Looking back to David, I studiously ignored her stare, but couldn't seem to lose my giddy grin.

I've seen her four times since the first night we had sex, and even though this was a planned meet up, I still felt like the breath had been kicked out of me when I spotted my beautiful stranger. She stood far above everyone around her, and as she searched the crowd for me, I took a few seconds just to drink her. Black suit, dark gray shirt, no tie. Her hair looked a as though it had grown out in the last couple of weeks, kind of messy. I liked it messy like this, imagined tugging on it with her head between my legs. She cut quite a shadow on the steps, as people parted around her _. I want to see you naked in the daylight, I thought I want to see pictures of you with me in full Sun._

Emma found me then, and I was totally busted for ogling her. A knowing smile spread across your face and she looked a finger at me, beckoning.

When I drew closer, she teased, "you were staring."

I laughed and looked away. "Was not."

"For someone who enjoys being stared at in her most intimate moments, you're awfully shy about being caught playing the voyeur."

I felt my smile shrink a little as something ached beneath my ribs. I spoke before even really planning to.

"I'm just really happy to see you."

This clearly caught her off guard. She recovered with a bright smile. "Ready to play?"

I nodded, oddly nervous despite the rush of heat spread across my skin. We'd had an audience of hundred mirrors last week, but had otherwise been entirely alone. Here, even at six thirty on a Friday night, the library was bustling.

"This looks interesting," I mumbled, turning to lead us inside when she pressed to settle fingers to the small of my back.

"Trust me," she said, leaning forward to whisper, "this is right up your alley."

Once inside, she moved in front of me, walking ahead as if we were simply two strangers passing through the library entryway and headed in the same direction. As I followed her lead, I noticed a few people watching her; a couple pointed and nodded to each other. I followed her, admittedly paying more attention to the fit of her jacket across her shoulders than to where we were headed.

Slowing, Emma asked, "how much do you know about the Chicago Public library? This branch specifically?"

"Not much," I admitted.

Emma laughed. "This library is different from most in that it relies heavily on private philanthropy. Donors such as myself," she added with a wink, "take a special interest in certain collections and give generously, very generously in some cases and/or sometimes granted small perks and return. Quietly, of course."

"Of course," I repeated.

She stopped, turning to smile at me. "This is the room most people would recognize, the reading room."

I looked around. It was warm and inviting, filled with hushed voices and muted sounds of footsteps and turning the pages. For beat I wondered if Emma planned on taking me on one of the large wooden tables lining the cavernous and very busy room. I must have looked unsure, because Emma laughed softly beside me. "Relax," she said, placing a hand on my elbow. "Even I'm not that bold."

She asked me to wait while she crossed the room to speak with an older gentleman, who I got the impression knew exactly who Emma was. The man glanced at me over Emma's shoulder and I felt myself blush, quickly looking away. Only a few moments later, I was following Emma down a narrow flight of stairs. And into a small room filled with row after row of books. Emma knew exactly where to go, and I couldn't help but wonder if she came here a lot, or if she'd scouted the location sometime during the week. I like both ideas, actually, the Emma who was as intimate with the library as someone who worked there, and the Emma who had been thinking about this as much as I had.

She stopped in a quiet corner, in an arrow, crowded road books. It felt like the stacks Pressed in on us from both sides, the tight quarters gave me the strange illusion of the walls closing in. I heard it cough and realize that was at least one other person in the room with us. Anticipation thrummed low in my belly. Emma lifted a book from the shelf without even really looking. "Do you read smut, Regina?"

I knew when she laughed a little at my reaction that my eyes must have nearly popped out of my head. I wasn't a prude, and I wasn't closed to the idea of erotica, I'd simply never gone looking for it. "Not much."

"Not much? Or not any?"

"I've read some romance novels..."

She was already shaking your head. "I'm not talking about soft focus covers with sweaty bare chested men. I mean the ones that tells you how the woman feel when the man penetrate her. How she aches when he slips his tongue inside her. How he describes her flavor when she asks him to. I mean the books of describe the fucking."

My heart began to drill beneath my sternum at how casually she talked about things that made me want to close my eyes and squirm. "Then no. I haven't read anything like that."

"Well, then," she said, handing me the book, "I'm happy to be here for this momentous occasion."

I glanced down on the cover Delta of Venus. I knew the name and, like everyone, I knew the reputation too.

"Great, let's check this one out." I flipped it over, looking for some kind of barcode number. But the volume was leather, with heavy gilded pages. Obviously a rare edition. "Take it with us...?"

"Oh no, no, no, no. One can't actually check out the books at the library," she began. "And, besides, where would the fun be in that anyway? The acoustics and here are so lovely, with the wood, in the ceilings and what not..."

"What, here?" My heart dropped a little. As much as I love the idea of reading something racing with Emma nearby, I love the idea of being completely wild with her tonight even more.

She nodded. "And you're reading to me."

"I'm reading you erotica in here?"

"Yes. And I'll probably feel the need to fuck you in here too. You got to be loud last week. But this week—"She brushed some hair on the side of my face, lips pursed—"not so much."

I swallowed heavily, unsure whether this was exactly what I wanted to hear or whether it terrified me. Her hands running across the back of my neck was Soothing. Her palm was warm, her fingers were long enough to wrap almost to my windpipe.

"You did only give me Fridays, and no beds," she said. "Circumstances being what they are, I want to do something with you I know with absolute certainty even never experienced before."

"And you?" I reconsidered why she knew this room so well.

She shook her head. "Most people aren't allowed down here at all. And I can assure you, I've never fucked a girl in the library before. For as much of an expert at this as you seem to think I am, most of my adventures are in a limo on the way to drop someone off somewhere. I am more of an arse than a slut, if I'm being introspective about it."

There was freedom in her determine bachelorettehood; I didn't have to pretend that this man any more than it did. And even though it was only sex, and even though she was the first woman I've been with whom I really didn't need to know at all, I had crave her touch all week long. I've reached up and pulled her face close to mine. "Fine with me. I don't need you to be the 'nice guy'."

She laughed into a kiss." I'll be quite nice to you, I promise. You so far refused the back of my limo or a quick shag at my place. You're making me break all of my habits."

We were invisible from across the room, thanks to the book surrounding us, but if anyone walk down our dark little corner, we'd be exposed. Something inside of me begin to ache in that heavy, sweet way that cause my spine to arch in my heart to pound wildly. Emma stepped forward and bent to kiss me, starting with the corner of my mouth, humming at the contact and smiling.

"I'm following your rules, but it doesn't mean I'm wet all the time. I deleted the video, but I admit I regret it. You'll let me take some more pictures tonight?"

It took so little from her to make me feel like I was no longer solid, but turning into a warm, honey ooze. "Yes."

She gave me a smile that made me fear for a beat that I handed a slice of my soul to the devil. But then she kissed my jaw, whispering, "You know I'd never show anyone. I despise the idea of another person seeing you like this. When you leave me, the next poor bastard will need to figure out on their own how to please you."

"When I leave you?" She shrugged, eyes wide and clear. "Or end this. However you choose to describe it."

"I have wondered this Friday if you'd simply not text if that's how it would end."

"I think that'd be pretty shite," she said, frowning thoughtfully. "If either of us wants to end things, let's have the courtesy to say it, right?"

I nodded, surprisingly relieved. I suspected that even though I made the deal with myself to keep this about sex, if it ended I would still miss it, miss her. Not only was Emma an amazing lover, she was also fun. But she was a player, and took this just as seriously as I did... Which is to say not at all.

"Now that that's settled..." She turned me to face the stacks. Reaching around me, she opened the book, flipping to a specific page, and then moved my hand to hold it open. With her pressed behind me and a shelf in front, I felt completely hidden, like I was sheltered.

"Read," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "Start here."

She indicated with her finger tip that I begin at a paragraph partway into a chapter. I didn't know what was happening, who was there narrating. But I understood it didn't matter.

Wetting my lips, I read _ **, "When he and Louise met, they mainly went off together. Antonio was powerfully fascinated by the whiteness of her skin, the abundance of her breasts, her slender waist..."**_ Emma's hands ran up beneath my dress, over my hips, across my stomach, up to where she cupped my breasts.

"Fuck, you're soft."

One of her hands move down my side in between my legs, teasing at my wetness. It was work just focus on the plain English in front of me, but I kept reading. Emma moved her hands away, clearing my head for only a beat, because behind me, I could feel her shifting I could hear the click of her belt as she unlatched it. I barely processed the words as I said them, instead listening to the sounds of her behind me. Could I do this? This wasn't a wild dance floor, with strobing lights and rising bodies. This wasn't an empty restaurant and her hand under the table. This was the most famous public library, full of rare volumes, marble flooring... Literary history.

Since entering the building we hadn't even spoken and full volume. And we were going to have sex? It was one thing to imagine it, another to be standing here about to actually do it.

I was nervous.

Hell, I was terrified. But I was also buzzing, every neuron firing, my blood pumping wildly in my veins. My words faltered as I read.

"Focus, Regina."

I blinked down at the book struggling to push my attention to the words on the page.

" _ **Everything made him laugh. He gave one of the feelings that the whole world was now shut out in only the central feast existed, that there would be no tomorrow, no meetings with anyone else that there was only this room, this afternoon, this bed."**_

"Read that again," she growls and then lifted my skirt. "This room, this afternoon, this bed."

Just as I was about to speak and without any warning she slid two fingers inside me, so wet was I that she didn't even really have to tease, stroke, or pet me. She just had to give me a book, the braiefest teasing touches and the sounds of her undressing. I groaned, wishing she could find a way to give me more.

"Quiet," she reminded me, pushing in and out of me slowly. I remembered the sharp sting when she taken directly on all fours last week in front of the mirrors. I remember how I dreaded and welcome to every brutal thrust. When she caught my face and my orgasm on a hundred different mirrors, she'd completely come undone. More than anything, seeing her like that has been the climax of my night.

We were at the end of a darkened row, but I could hear the faint sounds of someone else a few stacks down. I bit my lip as Emma slid her hand around my hip and in between my legs, teasing my clit.

"Keep reading."  
I felt my eyes go wide. Was she serious? If I gave my throat permission to make any sound, I couldn't be held responsible for what came out. "I can't," I squeaked.

"Sure you can," she said, as if she'd suggested I simply take a deep breath. Her fingers swept across my clit again, teasing. "Or we can stop."

I threw her a dark look over my shoulder and ignored her silent laugh. I had no idea where I left off, or what was happening in the story other than Antonio ripping off Louise's dress but leaning on some giant heavy belt. I could barely find my breath, but I began reading again and a tight, stuttering cadence that seemed to make Emma crazy. Her fingers dug into my hips and stilled her fingers that were still inside of me.

"Please...," I begged. Christ, she gasped. "Keep going."

Somehow, I strung the words together, and the passage grew heated and so wild. So descriptive. Her wetness with "honey." the man sucked and tasted every single place on this woman's body, probing into her and teasing until I started to feel heavy with her want and mind. To my horror I can feel my own witness going down my thighs, sliding between us with the force of her movement.

Emma shuttered behind me, losing both patients and rhythm. She seemed unable to move her other hand deeper, and I suspected the other held her phone, taking pictures.

"Regina... Touch yourself."

I carefully pinned the book open with one forearm and reached between my legs, rubbing. I'd been so swollen, so heavy with the weight of my own orgasm pressing down on me that I began to come with only a few seconds. The last of my words came out broken.

" _ **... thought she... Would go in-sane... With a hatred and j-joy..."**_

When my muscles stop trembling she began to thrust her hips to the pace of her hand so that it pushed her fingers in further and faster a few more times and then Stilled, stifling her grown with her mouth pressed to my neck. The room was completely silent, and I realized I had no sense of how loud we'd actually been. I whispered every word I read, I knew. But when I came, had I made some other loud noise? I lost myself so completely with her.

She pulled her fingers out of me, releasing a quiet grunt, and whispered, "Be right back."

I stood, her disappearing behind me while I fixed my clothes. She returned, kissing the back of my neck. "Mmm. Lovely."

I turn to face her.

"And per your rules," she said, looking down at me as she buttoned her suit jacket, "I suppose this is where we part."

I straighten my already straightened dress. This was our arrangement... I've been the one to demand it... But it felt... Odd. She continued to watch me with a twinkle in her eye, almost as if to say, _I just gave you an insane orgasm and you look a little dazed, but hey here's your dumb ass rolls!_ I was tempted to agree.

"Right. Perfect. I'm glad we're on the same page," I said instead.

She laughed as she slid the book back into the shelf. "And thank God that page isn't page six, right? A brilliant shag and no one's the wiser. We are most definitely an agreement."

"Do you ever get tired of it?" I asked. "People watching you?"

I remembered how much I hated the unsolicited opinion about my hair or what I wore when I was with Robin, the speculation on whether I gained or lost a few pounds or who I was seen with. I wondered if it was the same for her.

"It's not like being a true celebrity. People here just like to know what I'm up to. I think most people reading that rubbish just want to think I'm having fun."

That seemed so optimistic. "Seriously? I think they all want to catch you with your pants down."

"Wait, isn't that what you're after?" She laughed at my eye roll, and the continued: "the slut image is convenient for them. I'm not fucking a different girl every night."

Starting to kiss her, I added, "well, at least not lately."

Something passed across her eyes, a tiny flicker of confusion before it cleared. "Too right." She leaned forward and kiss me sweetly, her hands cupping my face. "Let's go, shall we?"

I nodded, a little dazed. Emma motioned for me to lead the way and we climb the stairs, stepping back onto the main floor of the library. Nothing has changed, the sound of whispers in pages turning still filled the air and nobody even glanced in our direction. There was a thrilling what we had done, and the fact that nobody seemed the wiser. We were nearing the exit when Emma reached for my arm and pulled me into a dark and corner.

"Just one more," she said, right before she brought her lips to mine. It was a soft and sweet and her lips lingered there, as if she didn't want to be the one to pull away.

I swallowed when I met her eyes again.

"Till next week, Estrella."

And then she was gone. I watched as she crossed the floor and headed out into the fading sunshine, and wondered how much I would regret this when it was over.


End file.
